


Our Strange Duet

by Ally147



Series: what raging fire shall flood the soul? [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drabble Collection, F/M, Zutara Month 2020 Part 2, Zutara Month 2020 Part 2: Quarantine Edition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:14:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 23,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23956702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ally147/pseuds/Ally147
Summary: She makes one last adjustment of the ornate collar, then looks up at him and smiles. “You look good, Fire Lord.”He huffs. “Don’t call me that.”“Why not? That’s what you are, isn’t it? What you’re going to be?”“Not to you.” The look in his eyes stops her in her tracks and settles somewhere deep inside her. “Never to you.”
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: what raging fire shall flood the soul? [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1849363
Comments: 172
Kudos: 881





	1. Day One: Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> Day One: Flowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day One: Flowers
> 
> NOTE 26.12.2020: I'm going to be doing a full edit of these chapters over the coming days. All of these were originally written in the span of about an hour and were never properly proof-read, so I'm doing it now. The content won't change at all, I'll just be making a few minor revisions.

Of all of it, it’s the fire lilies she remembers the most.

Not the bloodbending. The knowledge of that sits like a stone in her stomach, but so long as she sits alone by the shore during a full moon night, it’s something she can ignore. Aang and Sokka don’t argue with her those nights.

Zuko does. Their friendship still has that lingering shine of newness, but it doesn’t stop him from calling out to her when, as soon as the moon makes itself known that night, she dashes down to where the sea meets the sand. She ignores him, but it's a near thing; she doesn't think she'd mind the company while she sits there, the tide and the heady power washing over her, until the sun peaks over the horizon.

When she comes back to the house, climbs the staircase to her room with legs like lead, there’s a bouquet of fire lilies in an ornate, gilded vase on the table by her bed.

It’s not a reaction people should have to flowers. People shouldn’t lose their breath at the sight of them. Their hands shouldn’t tremble. They shouldn’t feel tears welling hot in the corners of their eyes.

Behind her, someone clears their throat.

“Are you feeling better today?” a rasping voice asks. Zuko. Both a surprise and not a surprise at the same time.

“I…” But she can’t make any more words than that.

"Your brother and Aang said you weren't feeling well last night."

"I'm... fine."

Zuko coughs. The moment hangs awkward. He waves at the vase and asks, “Do you like them?”

“They’re beautiful,” she says, but that's the whole problem. They _are_ beautiful. Vivid reds and oranges coalescing like a sunset. And she decimated fields of them to feel powerful.

But he wasn’t around then. He didn’t see her tear the water from them. He didn’t see the field turn brown and dry, barren and useless. She can’t begrudge him. She shouldn’t begrudge him.

“They were my mother’s favourite.”

She spins, facing him properly. He’s leaning against the door frame, arms crossed; the unscarred side of his face is flushed red. “Zuko…”

“But you don’t like them.” It’s not a question.

She sighs. “It’s not that. Just… memories.”

The pointed toe of his boot nudges the corner of the massive area rug. He’s waiting.

“I’ll tell you, one day,” she whispers.

“After the…” He clears his throat again. “After?”

“Yeah,” she agrees. “After.”


	2. Day Two: Winter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Two: Winter
> 
> Edited 26/12/2020

“What are winters like in the Fire Nation?”

They sit side-by-side on the steps leading onto the beach, silent but for the cresting waves on the shore and the crashes and cackles from where Toph is running Aang through more earthbending drills. Zuko sits close enough beside her that she can feel the heat rolling off his body. It’s a different heat to everything else. Dry rather than the humid dampness sinking through even the thinnest layers of her clothes. A welcome change, almost.

He takes a huge gulp of the water she’s keeping cool for him, drops sluicing down the corded line of his neck. “Why do you ask?”

“Just humour me,” she says as she bends the sweat off her face with a neat flick. “Remind me what it’s like to be cold.”

Zuko leans back on his hands, long fingers stretching behind him. “Winters here are nothing like what you’re used to,” he tells her. “It doesn’t get cold enough here for snow, just heavy rains.”

She sighs. “I wouldn’t mind a heavy rain right now.”

The corner of his lip quirks up, but not quite enough for her to call it a smile. “In some ways, the rains are worse, since they usually come with lightning storms. But once they pass, the days are nice. I suppose a Fire Nation winter would look like a pleasant spring to someone from the Earth Kingdom.”

She hums. “I think I could enjoy Fire Nation winters. Go home for the summer… spend winters here…”

He glances at her, eyes hidden behind his shaggy fringe. “What about where you’re from?”

“Winters, or summers?”

“Winter.” He shrugs. “My crew never wanted to sail the poles at winter. We kept our searches to the Air Temples and the coastal Earth Kingdom, sailed the poles during summer.”

“Smart.”

“I know. I never really believed it at the time, though.”

“Even a Fire Nation military ship wouldn’t have been able to survive the poles during winter,” she informs him primly. “Either you would have destroyed the hull on an ice floe, or the blizzards would have ended you.”

“That bad?”

“And worse. Winter’s deadly for the people living there, too, you know.” She closes her eyes, bends away another layer of sweat. “I’d take it over this any day, though.”

“Yeah.” He wipes his face on his sleeve; she re-freezes some ice cubes in his water. “I think I would, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please bear with me while I find my footing with these two: it's still pretty new to me (even though I've been writing fic for close to a decade).
> 
> Also, I'm ally147writes on Tumblr if you ever want to chat :)


	3. Day Three: Chance Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Three: Chance Encounter
> 
> Also, we have a beta now! Thank you for all your help, kanamesharisen!
> 
> Edited 26/12/2020

She makes no effort to be quiet. The beach house is a large place, but so full of _things_ that it echoes vastly less than the Western Air Temple, so she figures she can allow herself this night to just —

She bypasses the beach in favour of the sprawling garden at the house’s rear. She doesn’t want to be calm right now. The sickle-shaped moon hangs low and sharp in the sky, with even the stars giving it a wide berth. Invitation enough to nurture the ball of rage and sorrow warring in her stomach until sunrise, at least.

She makes for the gnarled willow in the centre, branches hanging limp in the heat. Her hands flex with the urge to seize the water from its roots, but she tamps down that thought as quick as it appears, seizes the loose ends of her hair instead and tugs until it stings. A wild need for power, for control, shouldn’t come at the expense of something so —

“Katara?”

“Zuko?” She jumps, calms when she finds him almost melted into the shadows on a small bench beneath a nearby cherry tree. “What are you still doing up?”

“I’m more surprised that anyone can sleep right now.” He slides along the narrow bench, leaving enough room for her to sit beside him. “I didn’t think you’d come to the gardens when the beach is right out there.”

She crosses her arms, scowls. “Maybe I don’t want to be predictable tonight.”

“That’s fair. Is… is there something on your mind?”

“You mean aside from that stupid play?” She laughs, the sound more than a little manic to her ears. She collapses onto the bench beside him, pressed shoulder to thigh, and drops her head to her hands. “Aang.”

He swallows. “Aang’s on your mind?”

“He kissed me.”

“Oh.”

“I know, right? We got shown the worst possible outcome, but somehow Aang kissing me is still the worst thing that happened to me tonight.”

“I... Okay…” He shifts, and the press of his thigh by hers disappears. “So you… didn’t want that?”

“I would have liked to have been asked first, at least.”

He clears his throat but doesn’t say anything.

She sighs. “I’m just… so confused.”

He’s silent. The chirping crickets grow louder and louder and louder —

“These are…" he starts, slow and quiet, "confusing times.”

“And that play didn’t help a thing.”

The barest hint of a smile edges its way into his voice. “I don’t think it was meant to be instructional.”

“Still. A hint or an idea for what we’re supposed to do might have been nice. I’m sorry they cheered at the end when… you know.”

He shrugs. “Don’t apologise. It’s not like they know any better. Besides, you didn’t write it.”

“But I did kind of set it in motion, didn’t I?”

He shifts again, his thigh back against hers. “What do you mean?”

She lets loose a breath, stares at the sky. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot, actually. About what would have happened if Sokka and I didn’t go fishing that day. Or if he wanted to go spearing instead, or what if I'd had to stay back and help Gran Gran with something. None of us would be here if I hadn't gotten angry at the base of that iceberg. What would the world have looked like? Would the world have been better off, or worse or the same if we never found Aang?”

She knows she’s being unfair, pleading with him for answers to these horribly abstract questions, but he just watches her, unreadable, eyes gleaming in the scant moonlight.

“Those kinds of questions are useless,” he mutters in the end. “It’s not up to us to wonder what if, Katara. It’s done. We go forward. We do what has to be done.”

“Even if we’re not sure?” Her voice is tiny. “Even when we’re… confused and lost?”

“Especially then.”


	4. Day Four: Betrayal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Four: Betrayal.
> 
> This one follows immediately on from yesterday's.
> 
> Edited 26/12/2020

His words take long, quiet moments to properly absorb. “You know a lot about this, don’t you?”

“About what?”

“About asking yourself these kinds of questions. Having these thoughts.”

“With… this,” he waves a hand vaguely over his scar, “it’s kind of hard not to.”

The sharp sliver of moon doesn’t offer much light to study it by, but Katara remembers the texture of it beneath her fingers. Somehow smooth and rough, hot and cold, at the same time, bleeding into his unharmed skin seamlessly.

“What happened?” she asks before she can stop herself.

His body so close to hers heats and heats and heats —

“What?”

She refuses to quail under the simmering _something_ in his tone.

“Your scar,” she says, gently. “Would you tell me what happened?”

His body shifts by hers with every rapid rise and fall of his breath. “I’ll tell you about my scar,” he rasps after a long, tense moment filled with her heartbeat pounding in her ears, “when you tell me about the fire lilies.”

“I…” She blinks, swallows. “All right. So… after?”

“Yeah, after.”

She makes no move to leave, and neither does he. A light, cool breeze shakes a snowfall of petals onto their heads and shoulders.

“It’s not a bad thing, by the way,” he says, so quietly it almost gets swallowed by the gentle rustle of the leaves and branches around them. “If you didn’t, or don’t want Aang to kiss you. You shouldn’t feel guilty about things you want.”

She huffs a laugh. “You sure do.”

“Because the things I wanted were always tied to things I shouldn’t.”

“Still?”

His fingers curl into tight fists against his knees. “Sometimes. Being here, now, with all of you, doing what we’re doing… it still feels a little like a betrayal somehow.”

She wraps her hand over the fist closest to her. To calm him, or to keep him from fleeing, she can’t tell. “To who?”

“To my family. To the Fire Nation.”

Her hand tightens over his. “I hope you realise, Zuko, that you never, not once betrayed your family, or the Fire Nation. If anything, they betrayed you.”

They’re silent. One beat turns to two turns to ten. He slowly pulls his hand out from beneath hers. “You should go to sleep, Katara.”

“What about you?”

“It’s almost dawn.” She hadn’t noticed the lightening sky.

“But —”

“It’s fine, Katara. I usually meditate around this time, anyway.”

“Are you all right?”

He glances at her then, golden eyes bright and somehow dimmed. “I’ll be fine. Thanks.”

She hears the double meaning in the word and nods. When she stands, petals fall from her lap and land soundlessly among the others. As climbs the steps back into the house, she glances back at him, still and peaceful, silhouetted against the rising sun.


	5. Day Five: The Cave of Two Lovers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Five: The Cave of Two Lovers.
> 
> The cave is mentioned once, unrelated to the actual plot (what little plot there actually is).
> 
> Also, posting this at assbutt o'clock (a little after 2am my time) because I won't be home all day tomorrow. This decision probably also explains why I'm a little meh on this one. Please excuse any lingering errors.
> 
> Edited 27/12/2020

He appears in the doorway without a sound, but she’s learned by now not to be surprised by Zuko’s tendency to lurk in dark corners.

“You didn’t go after him.” He says it like a question, like he’s surprised.

She quirks a brow at him, watches over the top of her book as he takes cautious steps further into the small, albeit very well-stocked library. “No. You told me not to, remember?”

“I remember.” He sinks into a chair opposite hers and stares into the empty fireplace. “I just didn’t think you’d listen.”

She sighs, closes her book. “You were right. Aang needs to work this out for himself. None of us can force him to…" She trails off with a frown. "To kill anyone if he doesn’t want to.”

He scowls at her. “It isn’t about whether or not he _wants_ to.”

“I know, Zuko. You don’t need to explain it to me. I… I agree with you, actually.”

“You do? Then why didn’t you say anything? You know he’ll listen to you.”

“I just said, I’m not going to force Aang to do something he doesn’t want to do.”

He makes a sound like he’s about to have a stroke. “You just said you agreed —”

“— And you told me to let him work it out for himself,” she cuts in. She reopens her book and leans back into the chair with a huff. “I just said you were right about that, too. Spirits, Zuko, would you relax? It’ll all work out in the end, I promise.”

She swears she can feel the effort of him trying to heed her words from across the room. It almost makes her smile.

“Where are Sokka and Suki?” she asks quietly.

He squirms. Now she smiles.

“In their room. Beyond that, you don’t want to know.”

She shudders. “Toph?”

“Outside, in the garden somewhere. She said something about wanting to sleep in the dirt again before we all march to our inevitable doom.”

“That’s… terrible.”

“But not entirely wrong." He leans back, crosses his arms and sighs. "What are you reading?”

“The Ballad of Oma and Shu.” Her fingers trace the raised gold characters on the book’s cover. “Flowery, overblown, takes some ridiculous artistic liberties with the Cave of Two Lovers. Not a story I thought I’d find in the Fire Lord’s holiday home.”

“Probably my mother’s,” he says, gaze still firmly planted on the empty fireplace. “She enjoyed romances from the other nations.” He snorts, but there’s no humour in it. “Probably to make up for the awful one she had in real life.”

She drums a finger along the book’s spine, waits for him to say something, anything else. Sparrowkeets chirp in the branches of the tree outside, the setting sun casting vivid slashes of orange through the window.

“We used to sit in here and read when we were here on holidays,” he says, his voice here and faraway. “While Father and Azula would go outside and train, but we’d stay in here, eating mangoes and reading books, laughing until our stomachs ached.” He swallows, shakes his head, leaps from the chair like he’s been shocked. “You can take them, when we leave, if you want. Take as many as you like.”

She splutters. “I…I wouldn’t have anywhere to put them.”

“Then just put the ones you want aside. I’ll make sure you get them when this is all over.”

“Are you sure? I mean, they were your —”

“I’m sure.” He watches her for a long moment, and she can’t take her eyes off the piercingly gold gaze he’s using to pin her in place. “I… I think my mother would have liked you, Katara, and these books aren’t doing anyone any good here. I don’t think she’d mind if you took some.”

She’s not sure what to say to that, but when he disappears into the shadows again without another word, she’s not sure it matters right now.

And it definitely doesn’t matter the next morning, when they wake to find Aang gone.


	6. Day Six: Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Six: Family.
> 
> I like this one a lot in theory, but it was difficult to pull off with my self-imposed word limit (500 words or less, though I've broken that rule twice now...). Bugger. Maybe tomorrow's can follow straight on from this one.
> 
> Edited 27/12/2020

She waits outside the tent all night.

She knows Zuko’s uncle will forgive him — that was never in doubt. But the soft snores drifting out through the tent’s rippling flaps tell her there will be no family reunion until morning, and if Zuko needs to talk some more in the meantime… she ought to be here.

She spies glimpses of him sitting ramrod straight on a mat whenever the gentle, chilly breeze gathers the tent flaps open. She considers calling out to him herself — it doesn’t seem fair that he should have to wait alone for something like this. But her voice never makes it beyond her throat. Instead she braces her hands against her knees and makes her vigil in silence.

Hours later, not long after sunrise, the snores make way to soft words. Zuko. Her heart cracks at the speech he must have practised in his mind all night. Then the words turn to sobs. The sobs turn to a silence that makes her itchy with the want to investigate.

A few people wake and start moving about the campsite. Some throw her odd looks, and she can’t blame them; she’d have questions for herself, too, ones she’s not sure she’s got the answers for.

The tent rustles. Katara’s back goes straight and her heavy eyes wide. She remembers Iroh from under Ba Sing Se as a short man, round and soft, but strong and deadly as a retired military general ought to be. Zuko’s stories painted him as a gentle, patient man with a fondness for tea and convoluted proverbs. She’s not sure which version of the man she’s looking upon now.

He cocks his head at her, a gesture so incredibly reminiscent of Zuko that she almost laughs. “Good morning.”

She clears her throat. “Good morning.”

“Am I correct in assuming that you are Master Katara?”

“Yes, General Iroh, that’s me. But… is Zuko…?”

“Sleeping. I don’t think he will awaken any time soon. What are you doing on the ground?”

“Oh, I just thought… Zuko was so worried that you would still be upset with him, and I just wanted to wait here in case he needed… something.”

Iroh smiles down at her, something joyful tempered with just a dash of sorrow. “My nephew has been most fortunate, then, to have made such wonderful friends in my absence.”

She’s not sure why she blushes then, but Iroh lets out a belly laugh and holds out a hand to help her up. “Prince Zuko will sleep a while yet. In the meantime, can I interest you in some tea, Master Katara?”

She smiles and takes his hand, warm in the cold morning air. “I’d love some.”


	7. Day Seven: Wisdom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s where I let the whole fandom down with my very obvious lack of knowledge on all things tea related...
> 
> The ending is kind of meh, but it was so hard for some reason. I might come back to it later on and try to fix it.
> 
> Edited 27/12/2020 (and I've been working in a tea store for the past month and a half, so take that, past me!)

She decides very quickly that she likes Iroh.

It’s not a difficult decision. He reminds her a little of her late grandfather, a man she has only hazy memories of, with the same wide smile, radiating warmth, and unending kindness.

“Would you like to try another cup, Master Katara?”

Zuko wasn’t joking about the man’s boundless love of tea, though. She thinks she’s had five small cups this morning, all of different blends and combinations he says he thought up when he was in prison. She understands Zuko’s guilt and shame a little better now, though; this isn’t a man she wants disappointed in her, either.

“Yes, please.”

“Excellent!” He pours another small cup from an equally squat teapot. “I think you will like this one. Masala tea, brewed in milk.”

She takes the cup and sniffs it experimentally. “Is it spicy?”

“Not especially.” He takes a sip from his own cup and sighs, steam curling around his nose. “But there is a slight kick to it. Black peppercorns.”

She takes a tentative sip and immediately goes in for another. “It’s nice. Not what I expected, but nice.”

“I’m pleased you like it. The combinations are unexpected, but that’s why they work so well. On their own, the flavours are flat, lacking dimension. But together? That’s their strength. The spice and the sweetness together complement and foil, as any good partnership should.”

She gets the feeling he stopped talking about tea long ago, but she decides to take Zuko’s perhaps unintentional advice and simply nod in agreement. “That’s true.”

She finishes the cup and passes it back, watching as Iroh adds it to the small stack he has balanced at his elbow. More people are awake now, milling about the campsite. Someone, somewhere, is cooking breakfast, and Katara jolts when her stomach rumbles.

“Oh, forgive me, Master Katara,” Iroh says with a chuckle. “You must be hungry after your long night.”

“I suppose I am.”

“Wake your friends. I’ll get started on a pot of jook, if you like?”

She glances behind him to his tent, where Zuko is still sleeping. “What about Zuko?”

The old man’s smile widens, and he lets out a happy laugh. “I imagine he will sleep a while longer, but I must say, my nephew truly is fortunate to have made a friend as wonderful as you.”

She blushes, but she’s not sure why. Without another word, she gets to her feet and takes a winding route through the campsite, remembering too late that she has no idea where the others are sleeping.


	8. Day Eight: Movie Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Eight: Movie Night
> 
> I was low-key dreading this prompt. Everything else (mostly) has been wonderfully conducive to an in-universe AU, but movie night... that's a tricky one to weave. 
> 
> (Catch me being annoyed again on day 21, summer camp)
> 
> Edited 27/12/2020

The day ends in a vastly different place to where it began.

She knew that once they made it to Zuko's uncle, and found out exactly what he was doing, things would probably progress quickly. Tasks delegated; plans made. Schematics drawn; attack patterns coordinated.

And she wasn’t wrong. Those things did happen. And things are progressing very quickly.

Maybe a little too quickly.

Because despite how eager she is, how determined she is to help this cause, to save the world…

She hadn’t imagined on the flight over here that she would be accompanying Zuko into the Fire Nation capital to bring his sister down.

Tomorrow.

A section of the order — a former travelling theatre troupe — have been kind enough to put on a play for them tonight. Not that Katara’s really paying any attention to it. She knows enough to know that it’s not a repeat of _The Boy in the Iceber_ g, and that’s enough to keep her in her seat for now. Besides, she’s sure she’s not the only one using the cover of darkness to contemplate… everything.

“Here you are,” Zuko whispers as he slides into the empty seat beside her.

She watches him, catching only slivers of glimpses in the light casting out from the stage. “You were looking for me?”

“Yeah. I wanted to… talk to you. About tomorrow.”

She swallows. “What about it?”

“I need to know. Are you sure?” he whispers, low and close to her ear. “You don’t… I know I put you on the spot earlier, and Uncle definitely didn’t help, but —”

She sets her hand over his, balled into a fist atop his knee, and squeezes. “I’m sure. Nervous, yes, but sure.”

“Because you don’t have to come, if you don’t want to,” he goes on, voice urgent and drowning out the probably very impassioned speech the protagonist on the stage is giving. “If you’d rather go with your brother, I'd understand. Azula is…”

“Terrifying,” she finishes for him. “Which is exactly why you’ll need my help.”

“It’s just… I don’t want anything to happen to you. Any of you,” he adds quickly.

“Nothing will,” she whispers, but even she’s not sure she believes it. They’ve all learned the hard way that it doesn’t matter how well you think you plan something. “We’re going to be fine, Zuko. I promise.”

His hand twists beneath hers and weaves their fingers together. He squeezes this time, like he can hear every single doubt she has. Like maybe he shares them, too.

“I’m still curious about the fire lilies,” he murmurs.

She swallows. “And I’m still curious about your scar.”

“So, there will have to be an after, won’t there? So we can tell each other.”

“One way or another, Zuko, there will be an after.”

He nods, once, and turns back to the stage. It doesn’t escape her notice that he doesn’t let go of her hand until the final curtain falls.


	9. Day Nine: Shatter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Nine: Shatter
> 
> I don't have anything to add to this one. Enjoy!
> 
> Edited 27/12/2020

They take Appa and leave before sunrise.

She still feels the imprint of the tight hug Sokka gave her before she climbed into the saddle. The others weren’t awake yet when they left, but they all said their goodbyes and good lucks the night before. Katara doesn’t think she would have been able to handle a second round of desperate pleas for them all to stay safe.

As it is, she can’t stop crying anyway.

Zuko sits at Appa’s head, guiding him through the hours-long journey back to the Fire Nation. He hasn’t moved or said a word since they left. She can only guess at the things going through his mind. Whatever else is happening, they are still on their way to bring down his sister, and Aang is going to defeat his father.

So, she wipes her eyes and clambers through the windy dark to Appa’s head to sit beside him. Neither of them should have to pretend to ignore the roiling, simmering air of dread and terror alone.

Her voice cracks and breaks, but she manages to ask, “What are you going to do first when it’s all over?”

Zuko stays silent, but his knuckles turn white with his tight grip of the reins. “I’m not sure I’ll have the luxury of choosing, if everything goes to plan.”

She frowns. “You won’t have to become Fire Lord right away, will you?”

He shrugs. “Uncle already said he wouldn’t, and there’s no one else to do it, so…”

“You won’t even get a break?”

“There’s going to be so much that needs to be done,” he says, tipping his head back and shutting his eyes. “Someone needs to be there right away to pull soldiers out of the Earth Kingdom and bring the naval branch home. Not to mention, if Aang can’t… if he doesn’t… I need to be there to pass judgement. I can’t trust the generals there now to do any of that, so no, I probably won’t get a break.

“But you,” he says, after such a long stretch of quiet that she thought he was done with words for the moment. “You have options. What will you do?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t want to go home?”

She lets out a long sigh. “Eventually. I just think I’m done with travelling for a while, you know?”

“That’s fair.”

“But there’s still… so much out there.”

“It’ll wait for you, I’m sure.”

“Or, maybe... I could stay with you for a while.”

He jerks the reins firmly enough to make Appa let out a grunt. “You’d what?”

“You just said there’s a lot to do in the Fire Nation, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but… Katara, it’s not your responsibility at all.”

“You can’t be expected to do all of it.”

“I’m going to be _Fire Lord_.”

“And you can’t be expected to do all of it,” she repeats. “I could help.”

“Katara.”

“Zuko.”

“I just don't understand! Why would you even want to?”

“What, help you?” She nudges his shoulder with her own. “Why wouldn’t I want to?”

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, but there’s a small smile there. In that moment, she lets herself ponder the idea that they will all get out of this with their lives, and it doesn’t seem quite so far away as she imagined it before.

So they sit like that, pressed knee to knee, shoulder to shoulder, while the golden sunrise shatters what’s left of the dawn sky.


	10. Day Ten: Sunset

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Ten: Sunset
> 
> I'm having so much fun with these now!
> 
> Edited 27/12/2020

When it’s over, there’s a magnificent sunset streaking over the sky.

Fire Nation sunsets, and sunrises, are always something to behold, full of colours that don’t exist at the South Pole. The Fire Sages are talking about this one being particularly special — _a blessing_ , she heard one whisper — like Agni himself is smiling upon them and their new Fire Lord.

Katara doesn’t get to see any of it. There are more pressing things demanding her attention.

Like whether or not said Fire Lord is going to survive the night.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she mutters over him, her hands glowing where they press over his violently red lightning wound. “Why would you go and do something so spirits-cursed _stupid_?”

He doesn’t answer, but she thinks his face takes on a little more colour. She hadn’t really noticed how pale he was until passed out. Then she panicked. Panicked more than she had before when he told her to _trust him_ and _just wait_. She felt for his pulse beating weak and thready beneath his skin. Screamed for someone to help carry him to a safe place here she could heal him properly.

That was hours ago now. The healing is slower than she would have liked. He still hasn’t woken.

It’s probably just exhaustion. At least, that’s the most convenient excuse she has on hand. If she went to sleep now, she doubts she’d wake up for at least a week. But there’s still the raw wound on his chest, and the lingering current of electricity coursing through his veins.

A raw wound and current that were meant for her.

A sob hitches in her throat, but she swallows it back, back, back down. This isn’t something she has any ability to handle right now.

She presses her hands firmly to the wound, begs the skin to knit itself back together. But she’s exhausted, too. Her healing isn’t all it could be. Water is running low, and she’s not sure who she can trust in this place to bring her more. But… if she keeps going, she’s going to pass out alongside him…

“Master Katara?”

She yanks her eyes open. A short servant with a short bob of red-black hair stands in the doorway, head bowed low.

“Yes?” She sounds like she’s been gargling broken glass.

“The palace healer is here, and —”

“— No.”

“No? Master Katara, you’re exhausted, and —”

“— I will heal him. Alone, all right?”

There must be something commanding in her tone, because the servant doesn’t argue with her.

“Do you want to prove you're trustworthy?" she asks, her voice like a crackling fire. "Bring me some more water. As much as you can carry.”

The servant shuffles off, comes back moments later with two more servants and an older man Katara can only assume is the palace healer, all carrying large copper tubs full of clean, cold water.

Katara rides another wave of adrenaline.

Zuko survives the night.


	11. Day Eleven: Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Eleven: Secrets
> 
> Apologies for the delay on this. Admittedly, this is not my strongest drabble on account of the raging headache I had earlier. I might come back and go over it a little more another day when I'm feeling better.
> 
> Edited 28/12/2020 (the day has come...)

Katara wakes with her face pressed against the Fire Lord’s neck, and her hand over his heart, where his pulse beats out a steady _thud thud thud_ beneath her touch. She lets out a long, shaky breath; he's still alive, thank the Spirits.

It’s not easy to disentangle herself from their maze of entwined limbs. Their legs are twisted together, and Zuko’s arm is wrapped tight around her middle, holding her against him like he doesn’t want her to leave. It’s difficult to tell what heat is hers and what heat is his, but she won’t hold his delirium against him. Or hers, for that matter.

She hasn’t slept so well in over a year, since before this all started.

She slides out from under his arm, brushing against the bandage she’s glad she had the foresight to apply before collapsing on top of him, and kneels beside him. Her fingers slide along the edge of the bandage, finding edges of hot, smooth skin and the flow of blood just beneath the surface. She keeps careful track of its path, never taking hold or manipulating, just traces the circuitous route it takes through his body to begin and end with his living, beating heart.

His voice cracks like glass through the silence. “K-Katara?”

“Zuko,” she breathes. She seizes his hand in hers and gives it a gentle squeeze. His fingers flutter around hers in response. “You’re awake.”

He coughs. “How long was I… asleep?”

“You collapsed in the courtyard, remember? After we watched them take Azula away.”

“When was that?”

“Two days ago. You’ve been asleep since.”

He blinks, eyes molten with leftover sleep. “But you’re all right, aren’t you?”

She laughs, the sound broken by a soft sob. “Of course I’m all right. You saved my life.”

He squeezes her hand again, a little stronger this time. “And you saved mine, so I think we’re even.” He lets her go, and she mourns the loss just a little. “Has my uncle arrived? Your brother? Aang, anyone?”

“Later today, I think. A messenger hawk arrived last night with a note from Sokka. Everyone’s okay.”

“And my… my father?”

“Alive, I think, but definitely… defeated. Honestly, Sokka wasn’t too clear on the details.”

Something dark washes over Zuko's face. “I guess we’ll find out later.”

She lets out a low breath. “Yeah. Guess so.”

It's only then, in the awkward space between loaded words, that either of them notices their proximity, Katara's hands on his chest, Zuko's arm around her waist.

Slowly, like he thinks she might not notice that way, his arm slides away and he rolls carefully onto his back.

“Hey, Katara?” he asks, his voice oddly high.

“Yeah?” Hers isn't any better.

He looks at her, without ever meeting her eyes. “We’re you… sleeping, in here, with me?”

“No!” she says, far too quickly for him to ever think it was natural, as she shoots up to sit upon her knees beside him “I just got here. This morning, just in time for you to wake up and for me to… keep healing you.”

“Okay.” He shoots her another look, a little fond and extremely grateful, and watches her shift his bandage aside. She knows he knows she’s lying, but she not going to admit just yet to having very much enjoyed snuggling up to him while they slept.

She gloves her hands in more of the water left in the copper tubs and presses them to his bare chest. There’s no open wound, not anymore, but she can’t ever tell him how overwhelmingly happy, relieved, and at peace she feels holding his beating heart in her hands.


	12. Day Twelve: Moonbeam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Twelve: Moonbeam
> 
> Kind of a short one today. I think they'll start getting a little longer from here on out.
> 
> Edited 28/12/2020

Katara helps Zuko down the steps with one hand braced on his shoulder, and the other around his waist. He clutches her twice as tight, his pale skin almost glowing in the gloomy darkness. A small retinue of staff follow a fair distance behind, but close enough for her to sense the roiling tension simmering beneath their surfaces.

“What’s with them?” she whispers.

“They’re nervous,” Zuko replies, just as lowly. “They have no idea what version of my father is coming back. They’re just being… prepared.”

She scowls. “Do you really think that’s necessary?”

He glances at her, but she can’t read his face. “Given all the different ideas Aang had for… peaceful negotiations with my father, I’m not sure which version is coming back, either.”

“You don’t trust Aang?”

“It’s not a question of trust. I’m sure he did something, or else they wouldn’t be bringing him back at all. I just have no idea what that _something_ is.”

She squeezes his shoulder. “Are you nervous, too?”

He swallows, and says so quietly, “Yes.”

They come to a pause at the edge of a huge courtyard. The breeze is still warm, almost stiflingly so. There is a damp layer of sweat between the points where their skin touches, but Zuko still trembles, not enough for his soldiers to notice, but certainly enough for her to feel.

“Are you all right?” she whispers, low enough not to draw attention.

“A little dizzy,” he tells her. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

He shoots her a tiny smile. “You’re here,” he says, as though it’s as simple as that. “Besides, I can’t miss this.”

She frowns, but sheaths her hand in water from the skin at her hip and freezes it against the base of his neck. He lets out a low, rumbling sound that sinks between the cracks of her being and relaxes, just a little, leaning against her side.

They don’t have to wait in the courtyard too long before an airship descends on a moonbeam filtering between the gap of two large clouds. Zuko pulls the pieces of himself together and stands tall, Fire Lord already, and goes to meet them in the middle.


	13. Day Thirteen: Hidden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Thirteen: Hidden
> 
> I have a very loose interpretation of the prompts.
> 
> Also, here is where we wave bye-bye to canon. It has served me well, but I must now forge my own path. Go well, canon.
> 
> Edited 28/12/2020

Katara’s stomach swoops when she passes Mai in the hall.

The other girl doesn’t spare her a glance — though Katara isn’t sure Mai would have any reason to recognise her without a fight between them and weapons in their hands. She keeps her hands tucked in the draping folds of her robes and moves through the corridor as though she's floating.

It’s not meant to be a question, but it comes out as one anyway when she tentatively calls out, “Mai?”

Mai comes to a slow stop, even the halting of her steps somehow more regal and graceful than anything Katara thinks she’ll ever be able to manage. She looks Katara up and down as though sizing up an opponent.

“I remember you.”

Katara's hand drifts down to the water skin at her hip, fingers poised around the lid. “That’ll save time, then.”

Mai’s gaze flits down to Katara's hand, and she lets out a huff almost like a laugh. “I didn’t kill him, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Her grip tightens on the lid, twisting it gently to the right. “Then what are you doing here?”

“Dumping him. Properly, this time.” Mai's eyes narrow. “With words. Spoken ones.”

Her hand falls off the water skin. “I… what? Why?”

“Somehow," Mai says with a heaving sigh, "after being left and forgotten in that prison after saving Zuko’s life… absence did not make the heart grow fonder.”

“But… you love him, don’t you?”

The look Mai sends her is indecipherable. “I did. And while I don’t exactly blame him for what happened, ours was an entirely at-will relationship. I am no longer willing, and neither is he.” She nods towards the closed door at the end of the corridor. “He’s in there. Probably needs some help with his robes.” Without another word, she leaves, sweeping around a corner and leaving no indication that she ever walked the path at all.

She’s still a little cautious as she makes her way to the closed door, as though Mai might have rigged a bizarre series of hidden traps for her or Zuko to set off on their way to the ceremony.

On the other side, she hears the rustling of heavy layers of fabric and Zuko’s muffled curses. She knocks twice and pushes the door open, peeking her head through the narrow crack.

“Need some help?”

He spins, nearly tripping in the pool of fabric coiled like a hawk-viper around his feet. “Katara? What are you doing here? I thought you were with your father and brother this morning.”

She smiles and comes to his side, lifting the sleeve of the robe to a height where he can slip his arm in. “I thought you might need some help.”

He nods and lets out a long sigh. “ _Please_.”

“So,” she says as she begins the complex sequence of clasps down his middle. “I bumped into Mai in the hallway.”

Zuko snorts. “I don’t think Mai has ever _bumped_ into anyone in her life.”

“We had a quick chat.”

She can’t read the look on his face. “Did you?”

She hums. “She said she broke up with you.”

He blushes. “I… yeah, she did. Can’t say I didn’t deserve it, though.”

She smooths a ripple of fabric over his shoulder. “Will you be all right?”

“I’ll be fine,” he assures her. His hand comes up and settles over hers. “Promise. It was a long time coming, really.”

“Good,” she whispers. She finishes the line of clasps and helps him into the heavy outer robe. “There,” she says at last. "I think you're all done."

He coughs, clears his throat. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Did you… want to come down with me, or…?”

“I’ll be in the crowd, with my dad and Sokka.”

His face falls, just a little. “Oh, okay.”

“I’ll see you after the ceremony, okay?”

He nods. “All right.”

She makes one last adjustment of the ornate collar, then looks up at him and smiles. “You look good, Fire Lord.”

He huffs. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why not? That’s what you are, isn’t it? What you’re going to be?”

“Not to you.” The look in his eyes stops her in her tracks and settles somewhere deep inside her. “Never to you.”


	14. Day Fourteen: Matchmaker Iroh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Fourteen: Matchmaker Iroh
> 
> I have no idea how to write a fight scene (or sparring scene in this case) which can be considered even borderline coherent, but I wrote one anyway (though it's mercifully short). I apologise in advance for this absolute mess of a drabble...
> 
> Also, I, like many zutara shippers, kind of tune out of the last few minutes of that final episode. I’m not sure what that epilogue was meant to do or be other than to show that ‘all was well’ and for Aang to ‘get the girl’, because why the hell else were they there? Was it ever mentioned? Was there a formal celebration? Zuko, my guy, you've got a broken country to run go home! Either way, as this drabble collection is now firmly in AU (and probably EWE) territory, I wouldn’t fuss over it too much.
> 
> Edited 29/12/2020

“It’s addressed to both of us.”

“Yeah?” She sidesteps his fire blast and sends another wave towards him. It’s more like an intricately choreographed game than a sparring session, seeing who can get closest. “So? He knows I’m here, doesn’t he? He’s just being… I don’t know, economical.”

“It’s just…” Zuko evaporates the waves with a wall of white-hot flames. “You know how Uncle is.”

“I’ve only met him a few times," she points out, panting as sweat drips into her eyes, "so no, not really.”

“He’s trying to…” He sighs, shakes his head, drops into a crouch, and kicks another quick sequence of blasts towards her. “Never mind.”

She catches them in a wall of water, revels in the sizzling hiss they make when they meet. One breaks through and misses her arm by an inch, singeing the fine hairs. “No, what do you think he’s trying to do?”

“You know…” He winces when one of her ice darts skims past his lower leg. “Connect us.”

“Connect us?”

He lets out a hiss and curls another quick burst of fireballs at her. “Like a _couple_.”

“What?” She drops her pentapus form too soon and a fireball collides with her thigh, sending her crumbling to the ground.

“Katara!” Zuko drops his form and runs towards her, eyes wide and frantic. He drops to his knees at her side and hovers his shaking hands over the patch of burnt skin. “Oh, Agni, Katara,are you all right?”

“Yeah,” she says, grimacing as she sits up. “Just... took me by surprise, that’s all.”

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers as he watches her glowing hands settle over the blistering wound with something like heartbreak.

“It's fine, Zuko. Besides, it’s a calculated risk, sparring with you,” she tells him wryly. She lifts her hands away, revealing an unmarked expanse of skin. Zuko lets out a low, rattling breath and hangs his head. “See? No harm done.”

He glances up at her, his smile sad, and his eyes as dark as caramel. “Maybe not a conversation we should have been having around fire.”

“Maybe not. Shall we finish for today?”

“That might be for the best.” He takes her hand in his damp one and helps her upright, keeping a hold of it as they leave the training yard and make their way towards the palace.

“So…” she says, more casually than she feels; he still hasn’t let go of her hand. “Are you going to go?”

“He’s timed it with a holiday week here,” Zuko says with a rueful smile. “Where there’s no government sittings. My father used to take us to Ember Island during those weeks when I was little.” He trails off, shakes his head. “Point being, it’s probably the only week off I can take without it being frowned upon.”

“Well, that’s kind of him, to take that into account.”

“That’s shrewd of him, you mean.” He says this with a fond smile. “Will you go?”

“And just miss the grand reopening of the Jasmine Dragon? Of course I’ll go.”

“Would you… maybe like to go with me?”

“With you?”

“I mean… in the same airship.” His cheeks flare red. “You know, while we’re all being _economical_.”

“I suppose so I could join you. To be economical and all.”

“Of course.” They come to a stop at a crossroads in the palace corridors and linger in the middle.

“I have a meeting over lunch,” he says, cocking his head to the right, “but I’ll see you again for dinner this evening?”

She nods. “I’ll see you then.”

He smiles one of his small, very Zuko smiles, and walks away, their hands pulled between them and touching until the very last second.


	15. Day Fifteen: Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Fifteen: Trust
> 
> Fair warning, I wrote most of this under the influence of sleeping tablets. It seemed like a cute idea at the time.
> 
> Edited 29/12/2020

To Katara, it doesn’t seem right — or fair — that her stomach can tolerate the most rickety of ships in the most dangerous of conditions at sea, but be unable to take the barely-there tilting of an airship in flight.

It’s no different from Appa, she tells herself as she rides out another wave of cold sweats in her room. Really, it should have been even better than Appa, who wasn’t half as smooth as this ship. It glides gently through the sky like an eagle hawk, barely even moving save for a gentle, constant motion she feels being mirrored deep in her stomach.

“Katara?” Zuko knocks on the door. “Are you all right?”

She slumps against the far, cool wall by her bed, and sucks in short, quick breaths. “I think I might be dying.”

A pause. “You’re kidding, right?”

She laughs weakly. “I don’t know anymore.”

“May I come in?”

“If you dare.”

The door inches open, the creak of it loud and strange given how well-oiled everything else on the airship is. Zuko stands in the gap, dressed in a casual tunic and leggings similar to what he wore during their travels before the comet, a steaming cup of tea held in his hands.

"I brought you some ginger tea, if you’re feeling up for it?”

She manages a tiny smile. “That’s sweet of you, thanks.”

“I hope it’s okay,” he says as he steps into the room. He passes her the cup, and it clatters against the saucer as she takes it. “Uncle would probably still say I shouldn’t be allowed to make tea.”

“It’s okay. I trust you.” She takes a tentative sip, because she’s aware on some level that Iroh may be right to think this, and lets out a long sigh. “It’s lovely, thank you.”

“That’s good. May I sit?”

Without answering, she scoots closer to her bed, leaving a narrow space just large enough for him to fit. He slides in, pressing them shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh.

She leans her head against his shoulder. “Don’t you have anything… official, to do?”

“Agni’s Feast Week, remember? There’s nothing official for anyone to do. Uncle's got a Pai Sho tournament going on in the mess hall.”

"You didn't want to join in?"

"I'm Fire Lord now. I need to latch on to whatever dignity I can muster and never let it go."

"You're not too good to play Pai Sho with your uncle."

"It's not that. He'd trounce me from here to the farthermost Air Temple if I challenged him." He winces. "Not a good look in front of the crew."

"I disagree. They'd probably appreciate the fact that their Fire Lord isn't as infallible as they think."

He turns, just so, and she can feel the heat of his breath against her temple. "I guarantee you, Katara, not a single person out there thinks I'm infallible."

She bends the sweat on her forehead into ice and sighs.

Zuko grimaces. “That’s kind of gross.”

“I feel awful.”

“Still gross.”

“I don’t care what you think of it.” She takes another sip of tea and turns her nose up primly, which proves very quickly to be an awful choice.

“Oh, spirits,” she chokes. “I’m going to be sick.”

The panic in his voice would make her laugh under any other circumstance. “What?”

She drops the cup, aware of the slosh and shatter it makes when it meets the solid floor but choosing not to care, and launches herself over the pot discreetly slipped into her room for just this purpose.

She feels him very hesitantly ease in behind her while she upends her stomach. He holds her hair from her face and murmurs gentle, if rather ineffectual, platitudes that do little to soothe, but endear him to her all the more for how he’s trying.

Still hunched over the pot, she mutters, “This is so stupid.”

She swears she can hear his smile. “I won’t argue with you.”

“I travelled for a year on a sky bison and I never got sick. And lots of boats and ships before that.”

“Doesn’t make any sense to me, either.”

“How much longer do I have to be on here for?”

“Another couple of hours, maybe. We’re actually making really good time. We’ll be in Ba Sing Se by nightfall.”

She hums, wipes her mouth and slumps to the side. “That’s good. Sorry about the cup.”

“It’s okay. There’s a whole cupboard full of them. I can get you another cup, if you like?”

“Just… water this time, I think. And maybe a damp towel?”

“Will you be all right while I’m gone?”

She goes to nod, but stops almost instantly. “I’ll be fine.”

“All right. I won’t be long.”

As he’s about to leave, she calls out, “Hey, Zuko?”

He stops in the doorway. “Yes?”

“Just… thank you.”

“Oh, you’re welcome.”

“Also, if you tell anyone about this when we get there, I’ll freeze you to the wall.”

He smiles that small, very Zuko smile again and shakes his head. “Noted.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't plugged my Tumblr in a while, but I'm ally147writes over there if you ever want to chat :)


	16. Day Sixteen: Clueless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Sixteen: Clueless
> 
> Also yay we're past the halfway mark! Also this one was hard and I kind of hate it.
> 
> (I'll come back later tonight and maybe give it a going over to see if I can make it better.)
> 
> Edited 29/12/2020

“Katara?”

A gentle hand is shaking her shoulder, so lightly she might not have noticed if they hadn’t started calling.

“Katara? It’s time to get up.”

Her mind latches onto the signature rasp of the voice, so pronounced right now that she thinks he might have taken a nap, too. “Zuko?”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“What are you doing?” she asks, her voice half-smothered by blankets.

“Waking you. We’ve landed in Ba Sing Se.”

She groans as he throws open a curtain and a shaft of deeply golden sunlight hits her in the eyes. “What time is it?”

“Just before sunset. I told you we were making good time.”

She cracks one eye open and catches his blurry, crossed arms form at the end of her bed. “You say that like I didn’t believe you.”

He quirks a brow at her. “Did you?”

“I’ve been in the throes of illness, Zuko.”

“I could tell. Did you know you’re quite contrary when you’re sick?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yeah,” he says with a small, teasing smile. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

She sticks her tongue at him, throws back the blankets, and kicks her legs out to stand up. Another poor decision on her part, because as soon as she’s upright, the world drops from beneath her feet and she pitches forward to meet the hard floor.

“Whoa.” Zuko leaps forward and catches her with an arm around her waist. “Are you all right?” he asks, low against her ear.

She falls back against his chest and leans her head on his shoulder. “Everything’s still moving,” she moans.

He holds her a little tighter. “Just focus on something fixed. That should help with the moving thing.”

“Huh. That’s what they tell you at sea, too.”

“I know. When I was first banished, I was clueless about the ocean. I had awful sea sickness.”

“Did you really?”

“Yeah. Uncle’s ginger tea was the only thing that helped. I couldn’t even guess how many cups of it I drank that first year.”

“I guess that’s why you made it so well earlier.”

“I learned from the best. Can you walk? Uncle’s waiting for us outside.”

“But my bags?”

“There’s staff who’ll bring your bags down for you. Let’s just focus on getting you off this airship without incident.”

“All right…”

But as soon as she goes to leave the circle of his arm and take a step, the world crumbles, and her legs with it. Behind her, Zuko tightens his arm and heaves a huge, beleaguered sigh.

“ _Fine_.”

He scoops her up, one arm cradling her back, the other her legs. Without saying a word, he leaves the room and starts through the airship’s narrow halls to the tall, narrow door.

“You… put me down right now!”

“Katara, I honestly think you’ll kill yourself on the stairs if I don’t carry you down.”

She crosses her arms and frowns, even as she tucks her ear against his warm chest to listen to the thud of his heart. “I’m totally freezing you to the wall when I feel better.”

His laugh rumbles in his chest. “I’d expect nothing less.”


	17. Day Seventeen: Photograph

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Seventeen: Photograph (or, for the purposes of this drabble, portrait)
> 
> Also, every time I sit down to bang out another one of these, I have to remind myself that these characters are literal teens, some not even teens yet. I've spent so long writing aged-up characters in AU scenarios that it's kind of weird to come back to actual children. I apologise if I make them sound too old; it's definitely something I'm working on :)
> 
> And lastly, a couple of lines of dialogue are lifted straight from that ridiculous epilogue scene...
> 
> Edited 30/12/2020

“Katara!”

Even with his leg still in a cast, Sokka still manages to barrel into her like a hurricane. She meets him with equal force and presses her head against his shoulder. Tears well hot in the corner of her eyes; she’s missed her brother dearly.

He steps back and holds her at arm’s length. “How are you?” he asks, eyeing her critically. “Is the jerkbender treating you right?”

She laughs, a wet sound full of happy tears. “He’s good. Fine. It’s all been fine. What about you? How’s your leg?”

“Eh, better, I guess. Kinda hard to tell when it’s in the cast like this, but at least it should come off soon.”

“And Dad and the others?" Her grip on his shoulders tightens. "Did they all get home okay?”

Sokka nods, draws her into another quick hug. “They’re fine, too, Katara. Everyone’s fine. Better than fine now, actually.”

She nods, wipes away any last, lingering tears. “That’s good. Where are the others?”

Sokka jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “On Appa. Bags and stuff.”

“And you’re not helping them?”

“Hey, guy in a cast over here. What can I do?”

“Toph is literally blind and she's helping.”

Sokka grins. “Is she, though?”

And he’s right, because at that moment, Toph is surprise tackling Zuko and General Iroh in quick succession in hugs tight enough to make them yelp and possibly break bones.

“Well,” Katara says, turning back, “the least you could do is help poor Suki.”

“ _Poor_ Suki? Oh, Katara.” Sokka chuckles and shakes his head. “Best you never let Suki hear you say that.”

Katara rolls her eyes. “I’ll bet you learned that the hard way.”

Aang lands close beside her, Momo chittering atop his head. Something nameless roils in Katara’s stomach, like the air sickness from the day before.

“Hi, Katara!” He smiles brightly. “You look really nice.”

“Hi, Aang.” She frowns. “Are you sick? Your cheeks are all flushed.”

“No, I’m fine.” He glances over her shoulder, where Zuko, Iroh, and Toph are deep in conversation. Something dark and out of place crosses Aang’s face for the barest of seconds. “How’s it been living with Zuko?”

She rolls her eyes again. “I don’t live with Zuko, Aang. I have a room in Caldera City.”

“Oh. So, does that mean you’ll be coming back to the Southern Water Tribe soon, then? Appa and I could take you back after this if you wanted?”

Sokka pauses in his scrutiny of a bent-over Suki and watches Katara closely. “You do plan on coming back home soon, don’t you?”

“Welcome back to Ba Sing Se, Team Avatar!” Iroh swoops in before she can say anything. She latches onto Iroh’s words with nothing but relief.

Zuko pauses at her elbow, the edges of his green and brown Earth Kingdom robes brushing against her arm, but he doesn’t say a word.

“Thank you for inviting us, General,” Aang says, dipping into a formal Fire Nation bow.

“Thank you for coming, Avatar Aang.” Iroh returns the bow. “I trust the city is an improvement over your last visit?”

Aang nods and turns in a slow circle, smiles at the scores of small children clamouring to pat Appa in the street. “It’s all so different now. Happier. Brighter.”

“Thanks to you, and all of your friends. Now, come in, please. There are rooms upstairs for you all. I will make some tea for when you come down again.”

They take it as a directive, filing into the gleaming façade of the brand-new tea shop and up the stairs to the spacious flat Iroh has set out for them. Katara exchanges hugs and updates on Kyoshi Island with Suki, and affectionate punches and stories of reinstated Earth Rumble matches with Toph.

All the while, the brush of Zuko’s robes at her elbow never leaves.

**XXX**

Katara laughs at the picture Zuko makes serving tea. The motions are practiced, deft, and even graceful, but she can’t reconcile this image with the one she saw daily in her past month in the Fire Nation. Zuko serves tea with a dab hand — and a slight scowl — but he’s a leader. A great one, too.

“What’s so funny?” Aang asks.

“Oh, nothing,” she says quickly. “I just wasn’t sure we’d ever be together again like this.”

“You didn’t?”

She shrugs. “I hoped. I just wasn’t certain.”

Aang stares at the floor. “Listen, Katara, I —”

“Zuko, stop moving!” Sokka says, one paintbrush held tight in his fist, and another between his teeth. “I'm trying to capture the moment. Give a man a second to get your faces down properly.”

“Our faces?” Zuko frowns. “Sokka, what are you doing?”

“A painting! I'm trying to capture the moment. I wanted to do a painting, so we always remember the good times together.”

“That's very thoughtful of you, Sokka.” She glances over her brother’s shoulder and scowls. “Wait, why did you give me Momo’s ears?”

“Those are your hair loopies!”

Zuko appears at her side again, warm as ever and smelling of tea. “At least you don't look like a boar-q-pine! My hair is not that spiky.”

Sokka defends his attempt at portraiture while Aang slips out the door silent as a ghost. Katara frowns and goes to follow him, missing the brush of Zuko as soon as it’s gone.


	18. Chapter Eighteen: Co...f...t (???)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so --
> 
> When I was writing down the prompts for this month on a separate document, I must have completely glossed over today’s one because for some reason I have it down as CONFLICT, not COMFORT. I considered throwing in the towel for today (because damn, that was dumb of me) but ultimately decided not to. I mean, no one’s being comforted in this installment (but there's definitely conflict!), but you can enjoy my obscure, very out of place chapter anyway.
> 
> And I know there’s no dialogue during that balcony scene in the epilogue, so consider this me taking ~liberties~. 
> 
> Edited 30/12/2020. Honestly, this chapter probably could have done with an entire rewrite, but it's really, really hot here at the moment, and I'm super tired of it.

“Aang?” she calls as she steps onto the balcony. He leans against the railing, eyes fixed upon the peony-pink sky. She moves closer and closer, but he remains still, as though meditating, like he never heard her at all. “Aang, are you all right?”

A long beat of silence, then he lets out a low breath and asks in a whisper, “Do you think you'll be leaving the Fire Nation any time soon?”

She frowns at the idea, picks at the loose threads of the embroidered flowers on her Earth Kingdom dress. “I don’t know. Maybe. Why does it matter?”

Aang shrugs, refuses to meet her eyes. “I was kind of hoping we could travel again. Like we used to.”

Her mouth goes dry. "Where would we go?"

"I don't know. Where ever we want, I guess."

“With Sokka and Toph and Suki, too?”

“I don’t think they’d want to come," he mumbles. "Besides, I wanted to ask you first.”

“Why me?"

“I don't know. I just…” He stops, sighs, hangs his head low over the railing. “Katara, how do you know when you’re in love with someone?”

It feels like a bucket of ice water has been dumped on her head. “Aang," she says, fighting to keep her voice even, "why are you asking this?”

When he finally faces her, his eyes are wide and glistening, and she feels her heart snapping in two. “Just… answer me, please.”

She sighs and leans on the railing alongside him. Ba Sing Se sunsets are all kinds of beautiful, all streaky yellows and golds like a blooming sunflower.

“I’m not sure," she admits quietly. "I guess it depends on the person. I don’t think there’s just one way to know you love someone. I think it’s... lots of little things coming together in shapes you can’t ignore. Like... seeing someone at their absolute worst and accepting them. Knowing you'd do anything for them, and they'd do anything for you. Being so happy at the thought of them that you can't help but smile. Wanting the absolute best for them and doing all you can to make it happen."

He nods, his brow furrowed in a way that tells her he’s absorbing her words, as mundane as they are. “Have you ever been in love?”

She shakes her head; another shiver slices through her. “I… I don’t know.”

“I think I’m in love with someone.”

Her stomach twists. The sun dips lower, taking the heat of the day with it. “What makes you think that?”

“Because she’s perfect,” he says, resolved. “She’s helped me so much this year, and I wouldn’t be here right now if it wasn’t for her.”

“Aang,” she starts.

“Stop, just listen! You’ve done all those things with me! You’ve seen me at my worst, but you still kept protecting me like —”

“— Like you were one of my best friends who needed protecting, Aang,” she cuts in before he can go any further. “But I'm not sure you can say the same thing for me. You've seen my worst, and you know exactly the things I am capable of, Aang, but I know you don’t accept them."

“But I've forgiven you for all those things, and —”

“They aren’t things about me that need to be forgiven, Aang. They’re parts of who I am. Big parts.”

“But before the battle, when I… kissed you, you never said no. You just said you were confused, so you must —”

“No, Aang, I don’t." She sighs, suddenly bone-weary and feeling a thousand years old. "That’s the problem. You’ve always assumed that what you want is the same is what I want, and that’s just not true.”

The back of her neck itches like she’s being watched.

She takes a long, deep breath and forces some calm into her voice. “I’m sorry, Aang. You’re one of my best friends, I admire your strength and how much love you have for your traditions, and I never, ever want to see you hurting. But I just don’t love you the way you love me. I’m sorry.”

She sprints off the balcony and back into the shop before Aang can say anything else. As she meets the threshold of the door, a gust billows up behind her. When she turns, the balcony is hidden in a cloud of dust, and Aang is gone.

Her eyes are clouded by a well of tears as she makes a beeline for the stairs. It was the right thing to do, she knows that. Maybe not the right way to phrase it, but...

Zuko’s waiting at the top of the staircase, his arms crossed, and his brow furrowed. She pauses at the foot of the stairs and deflates at the sight of him.

“What are you doing here?”

“What was that about?” he counters.

“What was what about?”

He slowly climbs down, his gaze not leaving hers for a second. “You and Aang on the balcony just now.”

She scowls. “You were listening?”

He rolls his eyes. “Oh, come on. Like you’ve never eavesdropped on a conversation.”

“It was private!”

“It was _loud_.”

“And yet it’s still absolutely none of your business!” She lets out a long, loud sigh. “Zuko, it’s been… I’m really tired. Can I just —”

“— Did you mean it?”

Spirits, she thinks she could sleep for an entire year. “Did I mean what?”

“Those things you said," he says, stopping at the next stair above hers. "About not knowing if you’ll stay in the Fire Nation?”

“I haven’t decided anything, Zuko. I’ll go home one day. I’m just not sure I’m ready yet.”

He watches her like she might run away at any second. “And did you mean what you said before? About…” He swallows. “About love.”

She meets his eyes, molten in the growing dark. “Yeah, I did.”

He nods, but she’s got no hope at all of knowing what is percolating in his mind. “I think" he starts at length, " that we should have a talk about a few things.”

“What kind of things?” she asks.

“It’s after, isn’t it?” He smiles, but there’s an odd tilt to it. “So, lets have that after talk.”

“Are you sure?” she whispers.

“No, but I don’t think I ever would have been. You?”

She takes stock of herself. She’s not sure she’s ready for this, either.

“Okay.”


	19. Day Nineteen: Aurora

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Nineteen: Aurora
> 
> I have never been this productive. It's truly amazing and also completely whack.
> 
> Edited 30/12/2020

The talk doesn’t come right away.

To have this conversation, Katara thinks she needs to be equipped with some approximation of drunkenness, and the closest and best available alternative she has right now is complete exhaustion.

And Zuko must agree, because he’s got her by the hand and is leading her on a winding trail through the Upper Ring. The streets are lit by strings of tiny yellow lanterns that glow like miniature suns, casting their shadows long and shimmering against the stone-paved street.

“What are you looking for?” she whispers just loud enough to be heard over the rustle of their movements. Or maybe just hers; his footsteps don’t make a sound in his soft leather boots.

“Somewhere we can talk,” he says absently. “We’re almost there.”

He leads her around another corner, up a hill and through an alley until they come upon a park dense with willows and dark with shadow. Gentle birdsong follows them along a path worn through the grass. A babbling creek calls to her blood from somewhere in the middle. It would be a beautiful place by daylight.

“Come on,” he says, leading her gently through the winding mass of trees. “The middle would be best.”

“Best for what?”

  
He glances at her over his shoulder, the scarred half of his face lost in the shadow. “I thought we could spar, then talk, if that’s all right with you?”

She grins. Her pulse races with a welcome rush of something other than worry. “Challenging a waterbender right by a water source at night, this close to a full moon? Do you want to lose, Zuko?”

“Big words, peasant.” He comes to a stop in a large clearing, with the creek she felt running in an ostrich-horse-shoe shape behind him. He throws off his outer robe and assumes a bending pose, grinning. “Let’s see if you can back them up.”

From the first blast of fire she counters handily with a wave of water, she loses track of the hours. She used to think of their spars as games, who can get closer without truly hurting the other. This, she thinks it’s more like a dance. The way they spin and sidestep, the grace in the wave of their bodies and the flex of their limbs and the command of their element. It’s still fun, but for the first time she notices something beautiful about it, too.

One of her favourite things about sparring with Zuko is that it’s never easy. She strains for every hit and crows with every little victory she earns. He’s never told her as such, but she thinks it’s the same for him.

They’re still grinning when they begin to flag. Katara’s breaths come in deep, gasping pants as golden sunlight begins to creep further and further along the horizon, while Zuko seems to seize a second wind. She can see even across the expanse of park the way his eyes take on a new gleam.

Before he can pull his power from the sunrise, she gathers the last vestiges of her energy and drags a final wave of water from the creek, freezing it, and using it to trap Zuko against the trunk of the wide willow behind him.

She grins as she stalks closer, panting. “Told you I’d freeze you to a wall.” Her voice is scratched and scraped.

He quirks his brow at her. “This is a tree.”

“I still put you there, didn’t I?”

“I haven’t lost yet.”

“Spirits, Zuko, it’s sunrise. Just forfeit?”

“I rise with the sun, remember?” The ice slowly melts in rivulets onto the grass at their feet.

“Did you still want to have that talk or not?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.” He rubs at his wrists.

She sits with her back against the tree trunk and pats the ground for him to sit, too. “I don’t think I’ll be able to walk all the way back to the tea shop right now,” she admits. “So we might as well do something.”

He turns to the glowing sunrise and sighs. “Guess you’re right.” He sits, tips his head against the bark. “Who goes first?”

“I mean, you just lost, so…”

He gives her a look full of mock exasperation. Bags sit heavy under his eyes. “I did not.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“You just said you can’t move.”

“You don’t look much up to moving right now, either.”

He sighs again. “I need to work up to it,” he tells her quietly. “I don’t… I haven’t told anyone before.”

She pauses, frowns. “No one?”

“No.”

“Why me, then?”

The look he gives her is indecipherable. “Good question,” he says, so softly she thinks she might have imagined it.

“Okay.” She sucks in a shuddering breath. “I suppose it all begins with Hama.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to end there like that! The 'talk' just didn't feel right in this chapter. At least you don't have to wait too long!


	20. Day Twenty: Cherish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Twenty: Cherish
> 
> (To cherish is to love, and I used the word 'love' in a sentence, so in my mind, it counts).
> 
> I have been dreading today's prompt and the ~conversation~ I've been building up since literally the first chapter. And it absolutely shows. I'm just going to shove this at you all and leave until tomorrow, when the second half will be up.
> 
> Also, sorry for the, uh... imagery.
> 
> Edited 30/12/2020

“Hama?” Zuko repeats. “Who's that?”

“A woman who... she taught me some things that were...” She closes her eyes against the sharp blades of the sunrise. “Spirits, I don’t even know how to describe it.”

Zuko shifts beside her, the soft drag of his skin against hers keeping her firmly in the moment. “What did she teach you?”

“That water is… everywhere, essentially.” She presses her hand over a patch of grass between them and pulls the water from it, leaving a perfect, dry imprint. “In the air, the earth, the plants.” She sinks the water back into the grass and watches the life crawl slowly back in. Zuko looks on in fascination. “Even the body.”

She sucks in a cold breath that stings the back of her throat. “Hama was — or is, I think she’s still alive — a waterbender from the Southern Water Tribe. She was captured by Fire Nation soldiers in a raid… decades ago. She escaped the prison by bending the water in the guards’ blood to… take over their bodies and let her out. She’d been living in the Fire Nation ever since, kidnapping villagers and keeping them underground. Her idea of… revenge, or something, keeping them imprisoned like she was.”

Zuko stays silent, but his hand crosses the narrow divide between them and settles atop hers.

“I was so happy to meet her at first. She was going to teach me the Southern Style, so it wouldn’t die out with her. That style has been lost for so long, Zuko, but she still knew it. I loved her for that. But for her, there was so much more to it. She taught me to rip the water from fields of fire lilies, from trees, from anything living. I can’t see fire lilies now without thinking of her, or her disregard for life and… free will.

“But the worst part is,” she goes on with shaky breath, “for a little while after… she made me hate my bending, Zuko. Really, truly hate it. I’d never considered what it could be used for before.”

Zuko stares into the sunrise. “She taught you how to bend blood, too, didn’t she,” he says, more a statement than a question. “That’s what… you did to that man in the guard tower?”

“I didn’t mean to," she implores him to understand, but she knows, somewhere deeper, that she's never had to beg him for anything. "Not exactly, anyway. I was just… so angry then. I thought he was… I think I would have done _anything_.”

“But you didn’t.”

Hr breath leaves her in a rattle. “No.”

“You could have used it on Azula at any point during that fight, but you didn’t.”

“No.”

“Even though it probably would have been the smartest course of action.”

“I’m not sure I would have been able to during the comet. Usually, I need the moon out to do it properly.”

“And you never used it on me, even though I’d bet you were angry enough with me when I arrived at the Air Temple to try it. You could have made me walk right over the edge, if you wanted.”

She scowls at him. “What are you trying to prove, Zuko?”

“Just that your bending isn’t evil,” he assures her. “It never was. It's the person, the intent. And you aren’t evil. You’re… you’re the best person I know.”

She blinks. “Really?”

He squeezes her hand. “Yeah. Really. You’re allowed to love your bending for all that it can do, Katara. Don’t let that woman take that away from you. Besides… we all have that kind of potential. All bending has something like that which makes us hate it.”

She leans closer, watching as Zuko creates a flickering flame in the palm of his other hand. “Tell me.”

“Aang could pull the air from someone’s lungs, if he wanted,” he says, so nonchalantly it makes her flinch a little. “Bodies contain trace amounts of heavy metals and minerals, too. What if Toph decided she wanted to play with the iron in our blood?

“And fire is… dangerous,” he says, the rasp in his voice matching the gentle crackle of the flame. “Uncontrollable even when it’s not being used to destroy. If I was careless, I could burn a city to the ground. I could reduce an entire country to ashes. I could destroy homes and lives and wildlife. A spark could jump off this flame and destroy this park if I wasn't concentrating hard enough.

“But if I was careful…” He swallows. “I could boil someone from the inside out. I could explode their bodies under the pressure of the heat building inside them.

“And if I was really careful,” he goes on, quieter than ever. Katara’s heart kicks up a painful beat. “I could burn half of someone’s face off, and keep them very alive and very aware while I did it.”


	21. Day Twenty-One: Summer Camp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Twenty-One: Summer Camp 
> 
> (As in, the words 'summer' and 'camp' appear in decently quick succession, but, alas, there is no 'summer camp').
> 
> So, we took a kind of dark turn yesterday. But most of you seemed to like it, so I'll keep that in mind going forward.
> 
> Slightly shorter installment today, because damn, yesterday's drabble is a very tough act to follow...
> 
> Edited 30/12/2020

“Zuko?” she whispers.

He blinks, snaps his hand into a fist, snuffing the flame out. A tendril of pale grey smoke drifts out from between his fingers.

“We should get back,” he mutters. He stands, seizes his robe from the ground and wraps it around himself like a blanket. “We’ve been out all night. Everyone will be wondering where we are.”

“Zuko,” she murmurs, but he doesn’t answer. He doesn't even glance back, just stalks away without even waiting to see if she might follow.

She doesn't have it in her to be angry, not after that conversation. With a bleary head, full of exhaustion of every sort, she retraces the steps they took to the park the night before, but Zuko isn't on any path she takes. She searches for him in the crowds, in the throngs of people gathering for the early morning markets. There’s no hint that he came this way at all.

When she finally makes it back to the Jasmine Dragon, there’s a faint shadow behind the closed curtains wearing a path back and forth. She sighs and gently pushes the door open, and immediately, Sokka slams into her, wrapping her in a bruising hug. Over his shoulder, Iroh sits crossed-legged at a low table, watching her with an odd kind of smile.

“Ka- _tara_!” Sokka chokes out. “Where were you?”

She coughs and attempts to pry Sokka's arms away to no avail whatsoever. “Me and Zuko… we were sparring, and —”

“You and Zuko were… sparring? Uh-huh. _Right_.” She hears the suggestive smirk in his voice and wants to strangle it out of him. “All night?”

“Spirits, Sokka, it’s not like that. We were just… sparring. That’s all.”

“Just sparring, huh?” Sokka steps back, sets his hands on her shoulders and lets out a low whistle. “Well, you must have beat him good, then.”

“What?”

“He just ran through here like he was gonna set the place on fire —”

“— Don’t,” she cuts in, low and furious, before she can stop herself.

Sokka frowns. “I… don’t what?”

“Don’t say things like that,” she whispers. “Zuko… he wouldn’t.”

“I know he wouldn’t, Katara. Hey!” His eyes widen in alarm as a tear tracks down her cheek. “What's the matter? Are you all right?”

She wipes her eyes, sniffles. “I’m fine. Is Zuko still here? I need to talk to him.”

“Worry not for my nephew, Master Katara,” Iroh tells her. “He likely needs some sleep after… sparring all night, as I’m sure you do, as well.”

She sighs. “You’re probably right. Where’s Aang?”

No one in the room meets her eyes.

“Aang…” Sokka starts, trails off. “He’ll be back soon. Probably.”

She scowls at him. “You mean you haven’t seen him since… since last night?”

“What? I mean, you kind of broke the kid’s heart.”

Her cheeks flare. “You heard all that?”

“I mean, you were both right out there. I honestly didn’t think it was meant to be private.”

“Sokka!”

He holds up his hands and takes a step back. “Don’t blame me! You want something to be private, you take it somewhere private.”

“I… just… no one thought to follow him? See if he was okay?”

“What? He’s the Avatar, and it’s still summer here, right, General?”

Iroh nods, the steam from his tea curling around his face. “Correct.”

“See? If Aang would rather camp out or whatever than stay here where he got very unceremoniously dumped… it’s not like he’s gonna succumb to the elements. Ha, get it? ‘Cause he can bend them all anyway?”

“Ha ha.” She falls into a seat by the window and closes her eyes. “Where’re Toph and Suki?”

“Still sleeping. It’s pretty early, you know.”

One eye cracks open. “Then why are you up?”

“My sister didn’t come back all night after having a really loud, obnoxious argument with one of her best friends. Pardon me for not being able to sleep.”

Despite herself, she smiles. “I guess you can be pardoned for that.”

“By the way,” he goes on, serious now. “I think you made the right call with Aang. So just… don’t feel bad, okay?”

She smiles and wishes it was that easy. “Okay.” She stands, stretches. “I think I might try and get some sleep. Sorry to put a wrench in all your plans, General.”

Iroh waves her off. “Please don’t fret yourself, dear girl. You have a week here, after all. And you and Master Sokka are both quite welcome to call me Iroh, or even Uncle, if you like.”

She smiles, inexplicably shy in that moment. “Thank you… Iroh.”

She gives Sokka a quick squeeze on his shoulder and starts up the narrow staircase leading to their bedrooms.

She pauses by the closed door of Zuko’s room, presses her hand and ear against it. She can’t hear him, but she can feel him, the way his blood and pulse thunder through his veins.


	22. Day Twenty-Two: Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Twenty-Two: Lost
> 
> This chapter was meant to be one of my longer ones, but I think that honour will go to tomorrow's installment. Gotta save something for the 'First Date' prompt, after all :)
> 
> Edited 31/12/2020

She doesn’t sleep. Not really.

Besides, it seems rude to even try after all the things Zuko said. His words coil like snakes in her mind, poison leaking from them and dripping into her system until she’s full of it and so ready to purge it all.

_If I was careless…_

She doesn’t care what Zuko says. Fire is not the destructive force he envisions when he’s the one wielding it. She’s seen him fight. She’s been on the receiving end of blasts so carefully controlled and almost choreographed that, even when they were enemies, she never felt like she was in danger when she faced him. The calm and concentration in each burst is what sets him apart from people like his father and sister, and he could never, not in all her imaginings, be anything like them.

And it breaks her heart a little that he would think for even a second that he is.

_If I was careful…_

This, she knows Zuko would never be capable of. Not to say that she doesn’t think he could. Firebending absolutely rivals her waterbending for the horror it is capable of. At least bloodbending has some redeemable qualities to it. The medical properties alone are numerous, but largely untapped and will probably remain that way forever. What he describes seems more a method than an ability. She wonders if he ever witnessed anything like what he described…

… If a manner of execution so horribly brutal might have been used in front of him by his father or grandfather on a poor, unsuspecting someone to drive a point home.

_And if I was really careful…_

And that… that feels too specific to be anything other than truly, horrifically, personal.

There’s a gentle knock on her door, followed by a whispered, “Katara? Are you awake?”

She sits up against her mound of pillows and croaks, “Yeah, I’m awake.”

The door inches open on creaky hinges until Zuko is taking up almost the entire doorway.

They watch each other for a moment, matching glints of worry and sorrow reflecting off them.

Zuko clears his throat. “I’m… sorry, for running away before.”

“No." She shakes her head. "It's… I shouldn’t have pushed.”

He snorts. “You didn’t push. I knew I’d have to work up to the conversation. I guess I didn’t do that part right.”

“You don’t have to do it at all, if you don’t want to.”

He nods. “I know. But you…” He stops, sighs. “I want to tell you.”

“Why?” she whispers.

His gaze meets hers, and the intensity behind it almost robs her of breath. “Because… I don’t feel so lost when I talk to you. I think I could tell you anything.” It’s the one of the most wrenchingly honest things he’s ever said to her, just behind _I’m sorry; that’s something we have in common._

“Do you… still want to?”

“Yeah, I think I do.” He cocks his head towards the wide window. “I know a good noodle place just down the street, if you want some lunch.”

She blinks. “Noodles?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe it’ll be easier with food.”

She tries for a joke. “Have you been talking to Sokka?”

“He has some good ideas, sometimes.” There’s that very small, very Zuko smile again. “I’ll meet you downstairs, okay?”

The door closes, and Katara wonders when Zuko started thinking of her like that.

And when she started thinking the same thing for him.


	23. Day Twenty-Three: First Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Twenty-Three: First Date
> 
> I was going to keep going, but where it stops felt like a logical place to stop. Plus, I really wanted to get this done before the big ass storm front forecast to hit today tore across me.
> 
> Edited 31/12/2020

She dodges a gauntlet of suggestive smirks (Suki), eyebrow wiggles (Sokka), and one _go get him, Sugar Queen_ (Toph) as she darts across the tea house floor.

“Oh, grow up,” she mutters to a chorus of giggles.

“Have a nice time, Master Katara,” Iroh bids her with a wave and a smile which tell her that perhaps he’s nowhere near as demure and innocent as she thinks he is.

“We’ll be back soon, Iroh,” she says, staring at the freshly oiled wooden floors. She follows a curving grain along one particularly long panel to outside, where Zuko is waiting, leaning against a pillar by the door. There’s a soft pink flush on his unscarred cheek; she guesses that he wasn’t immune to the taunting, either.

She coughs to get his attention. His gaze pricks at her skin, the way it drags over the fresh robe she donned, panels of pale teal and gold silk, embroidered with wide, blooming peonies and tiny, delicate cherry blossoms.

“Katara.” He stops, clears his throat. The flush riding high on his cheekbones doesn’t dull in the slightest. “You, uh… you look… nice.”

She beams at him. “Thank you. You look nice, too.”

It’s not a lie — she appreciates every stitch of tailoring on his deep green, gold-trimmed tunic and close-fit black leggings — but he still side-eyes her like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He coughs again. “Uh, thanks?”

She takes a step closer and brushes her hand over his shoulder. “Really, Zuko, you do.”

Hid flush turns from pink to dangerous red. “Are you ready?”

“Are you?”

He lets out a breath ending in a puff of smoke. “As I’ll ever be.”

They don’t exchange a word as they make the short walk to the noodle house at the end of the street, but she feels the phantom touch of his hand on hers. She catches him glancing at her with something soft in his eyes when he must think she’s distracted by something in one of the store windows. She watches after him in the moments after he turns away, the blush all but permanent on his face, and not so different from the smile on hers.

Somehow, though, there’s conversation enough in their lost and found glances, and close-but-not-quite touches.

The noodle house is a small, very unassuming wooden building with a roof that looks like it’s going to slide off the walls in a gentle breeze, but the scent wafting out is incredible. A sign sits crooked and faded on the wall beside the door.

Wei’s Noodle Hut.

“I used to come here a lot,” Zuko says. “After Uncle was able to open the tea shop here before… the wife of the man who runs it used to give me free noodle soup for lunch most days because she thought I was too skinny.”

Katara smiles. “She sounds nice.”

“They were all nice.” He pauses, clears his throat. “They, uh… know me as Lee here.”

Katara nudges his side when he goes quiet again. “Lee?”

“The name I used when Uncle and I were refugees here.”

“You were refugees?”

Zuko shrugs. “I don’t know how else you’d describe it.”

He pushes the door open; a cheery bell above it jingles.

“Lee!” A ruddy man as round as he is tall hops out from behind the counter and seizes Zuko’s hand in a vigorous shake. “You’re back! It’s so good to see you again! Your uncle? Is he with you, too?”

He smiles a half-smile at the ruddy man. “It’s nice to see you again, too, Mr. Wei. Uncle’s well. He’s reopening the Jasmine Dragon in the same place at the end of the week.”

“Oh, that is good news indeed! Jiao will be so pleased, too; she has missed your uncle’s ginseng!” The smile on the man’s face is so broad and wide and unassumingly genuine that Katara can’t help but smile with him. The man’s smile spreads impossibly wider when he finds her at Zuko’s side. “But you are back, and you brought a pretty lady with you this time!”

“Oh, no…” The blush comes back a bright, burning red. “Mr. Wei, this is my…” He stops, shakes his head. Katara watches with an amused smile and a pleasant sort of flutter in her stomach. “This is Katara. A friend.”

Wei doesn’t say anything, but his eyes disappear into the creases of his ever-growing smile as he waves them towards an empty table at the store’s rear.

“I’ll bring your meal right out,” Wei says as they pass. “Nice to meet you, _friend_ Katara.”

She opens her mouth to reply, but Zuko scowls and takes her wrist, gently pulling her through the lunchtime throng to their table.

“Between him and Uncle,” he mutters. “I swear to Agni…”

“Something he said?” Katara teases.

“Only all of it,” Zuko mutters as he pulls a chair out for her to sit.

She glances at him over her shoulder as she sinks onto it. “You don’t need to do that.”

“It’s polite,” he mumbles, taking the seat opposite her.

Whatever conversation they had before with the looks and the not-touches doesn’t seem to work as well in the crowded noodle house. Katara’s too aware of the click of spoons against bowls, the bustle of conversations around them, and the way Zuko’s gaze seem determined to land on anywhere but her.

In record time, two steaming bowls of noodles are deposited without ceremony in front of them. Wei’s smile hasn’t diminished in the slightest.

“I hope they’re as good as you remember, Lee. And I hope you’ll enjoy them, too, _friend_ Katara.”

“Thank you, Mr. Wei,” Zuko says tightly. His shaggy fringe falls right over his eyes. Katara’s fingers itch with the urge to push it back.

She clears her throat. “Yes, thank you.”

Wei disappears. Katara feels strangely more aware of everything Zuko now, with his face turned to offer an unobstructed view of his scarred cheek.

“This place is nice,” she says.

Zuko nods. “Yeah, it is.”

“Wei seems nice, too.”

Zuko snorts. “No surprise that he was Uncle’s favourite Pai Sho partner when we lived here.” He picks up his spoon and nods towards hers. “Try it. Wei’s a nuisance, but he’s an excellent cook.”

She does, and he’s right. The noodles have just the right amount of chew, and the broth is deep and flavourful. But now that they’re here, with the food in front of them, she can’t keep ignoring the reason he asked her to come here, and why.

“You weren’t… exaggerating earlier, were you?” she asks, so quiet she wouldn’t think he had heard if she couldn’t see the way he stiffened at her words. “When you were telling me about… that, were you?”

He stares at his bowl. “No.”

She’s not too sure where to go from there, how to begin a conversation as loaded as the one they’re priming themselves for. She stirs the noodles around in her bowl, takes the occasional slurp. Zuko sets his spoon down with a clatter.

He sighs. “Ask the question, Katara.”

She shakes her head. “I’m really not sure how.”

“Neither am I. But that’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”

“It doesn’t have to be. Don’t you remember what you told me before?” she asks. “When you said you didn’t feel so lost when you were speaking to me. It’s the same for me as well, you know. I tell you things I couldn’t imagine telling anyone else. You know why?”

He looks at her properly then, his eyes molten gold. “I think I know exactly why.”

“Well, if that’s true… then you know that you don’t have to tell me anything. Today, tomorrow, or ever. I’m just saying, you can. If you want this to just be two… friends having lunch, then that’s all it’ll be.”

“No.” There’s something startling about the intensity of his gaze. “Please… ask the question, Katara.”

She leans forward, whispers across the table, “How did you get your scar, Zuko?”

He leans in, too, meeting her in the middle. “I got it from my father.”

She knew that. On some level, she definitely knew. But knowing doesn’t make it any easier to hear.


	24. Day Twenty-Four: Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Twenty-Four: Storm
> 
> A short, and kinda different sort of update today, folks! I've got a doctor's appointment to head to soon, so I had to wrap this up quickly :)
> 
> (Also, completely not intentional, but the A:TLA episode, 'The Storm', is the one where we learn Zuko's backstory, so pat me on the back for the ~poetry~ of it all!)
> 
> Edited 1/1/2021 (Happy New Year!)

Zuko’s words pour out of him like rain during a summer storm.

He speaks of a young boy, barely thirteen, attending a war council with his uncle’s (very) reluctant approval.

He speaks of a young boy sitting small and silent among seasoned generals discussing tactics to further the Fire Nation’s reach in the war.

He speaks of a young boy speaking out against a general on behalf of soldiers sent to die as a distraction.

He speaks of a young boy accused of the highest disrespect against the general and the Fire Lord.

He speaks of a young boy challenged to an Agni Kai, a traditional Fire Nation duel for one’s honour.

He speaks of a young boy begging, crying for mercy when it is his father, and not the general he disrespected, advancing toward him in the Agni Kai chamber.

He speaks of a young boy learning respect, with suffering as his teacher.

He speaks of a young boy screaming, screaming, screaming when a blast of fire is held to his face and kept there until the feeling is gone.

He speaks of a young boy showing shameful weakness in refusing to fight.

He speaks of a young boy banished from his home, sent on a fool’s errand to capture the Avatar.

He speaks of a young boy, with his uncle beside him, spending three long, fruitless years at sea, searching, searching, searching for something that may as well have been a myth.

He speaks of a young boy wondering sometimes if there was any point to it all, if anyone would care if he failed, or succeeded, if anyone would be waiting for him. If maybe his mother had heard what happened. What she might have thought of it all.

He speaks at last of an older boy now, wiser than before, knowing the truth now, that his honour was never something he lost.

He speaks with a young boy’s eyes and an older boy’s voice, his heart somewhere in the middle, turbulent as ever.

Katara takes his hand and watches all his pieces come back together, a calm port for him in this dangerous storm.


	25. Day Twenty-Five: Enemies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Twenty-Five: Enemies
> 
> *sigh* This chapter was a classic case of knowing exactly how I wanted it in my head, but kind of botching it on the execution. I may or may not rewrite it later when I'm a little more ready for it. I also didn't proofread it. But enjoy!
> 
> Edited 1/1/2021 (Actually on rereading, this one isn't so bad. Past me is pretty dramatic).

Zuko hasn’t let go of her hand.

She hasn’t made any effort to disconnect them, either.

The walk back to the Jasmine Dragon is full of a strange nervous tension, both lighter and heavier than before. By the time they reach the front porch of the tea house, a sort of prickling awareness is making jumps up and down her spine.

By some unspoken agreement, they both stop there. The rhythmic clatter inside comes to an abrupt halt, and hurried footsteps come to an end just beyond the other side of the door.

But in that moment, she doesn’t care if they're being spied on. All there is to care about there is Zuko. Zuko, with his burning eyes and gentle hands, and a scar that marks him not as a lost prince without honour, but with unerring bravery and…

“We should go inside,” she whispers.

She goes to enter, but Zuko holds her back, gently tugging her back to him until the space between their bodies is inches.

He shakes his head, the shaggy edges of his fringe brushing against her forehead. “Not yet."

“Are you all right?” she asks.

“I just… I have to know.” His thumb runs hypnotically over the rise and fall of her knuckles. “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“When we were in the catacombs.” His voice drops low, and he stares at the touching toes of their shoes. “In Ba Sing Se. Did you mean it when you offered to heal my scar?”

She’s silent for a long beat. They’ve never spoken of that day except in the most abstract of terms. But she finds the memory doesn’t sting as much as it used to, and there’s something heartbreaking in his gaze now, begging for an answer. She couldn’t stop herself from reaching out for him if she tried, and it’s like she’s watching it from the outside, the slow, careful course her free hand takes to creep between the length of their bodies to settle against Zuko’s cheek, brushing the very outer edge of the scar.

“Of course, I meant it,” she tells him fiercely. “I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

He leans into her touch, just barely. “Can I ask why?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because I wasn’t deserving of your compassion, or your kindness. But you gave it to me anyway.”

“It’s not a question of deserving, Zuko. I offered because it was the right thing to do. Because in there, you weren’t my enemy." She snorts lightly and shakes her head. "Not the whole time, anyway.”

He smiles ruefully. “Not the whole time. But when it really mattered, I was.”

“And by then, did it still matter?”

“Yes, and no. You have no idea how much I still think about you and I down there, what might have happened if Aang had arrived just a few moments later.”

“And you think I don’t?" She drops his hand and cups his other cheek, runs her thumbs along the sharp edge of his cheekbones. "I understand now why you made the choice you did. I didn’t like it then, still don’t, really, but I get it. We do crazy things when faced with the things we want most.”

He gives her a look like he’s staring right through her. “Yeah, I suppose we do. But that doesn’t excuse it, does it?”

“I think it depends, on the person and the thing they want. And I don’t believe you would be the same person standing in front of me now if I had healed you in the catacombs and brought you with us.

“And, you know,” she goes on, her thumbs still painting neat circles over his skin, “I don’t have the spirit water anymore, I used it to heal Aang right… right after, but I could still try to heal your scar, if you wanted me to?”

“Katara —”

“Or I could get more oasis water. It wouldn’t be difficult. I mean, there’s a whole oasis of it, and —”

She stops short to watch with wide eyes as he turns his head just so, to press a kiss to the inside of her palm.

“You are… incredible, did you know that?”

Her heart kicks up an absolute riot. “I’m not incredible, Zuko, I’m just me,” she whispers.

“And that’s all you need to be. No one else would have offered to heal their enemy’s scars, but you did. And for that… I’ll always be grateful.”

He reaches up to take her hands in his, circling her wrists then twining their fingers and bringing them down to rest at their sides. His gaze doesn't leave hers as he leans in to press a kiss like butterfly wings on her cheek. When he pulls back, it’s like the air is charged, magnetised so her very bones are thrumming with it. The urge to kiss him is the most maddening sensation she’s ever felt, so new and hot and tremulous, fluttering in her stomach and all through her veins.

"Zuko," she whispers, an entreaty and permission all at once. Her hands crawl up the space between them and grasp onto the fabric covering his chest, but the itching sensation in her fingertips doesn't abate in the slightest.

“Katara." His eyes fall shut and he leans in again. She matches his motions, gets close enough to feel his warm breath tickling her lips, the brush of his fringe on her forehead, the barest tremble of his hands landing on the curve of her waist, and —

“Katara? Zuko?”

It’s like she’s been slapped. She whirls around and sees him there, eyes huge and rippling. Her stomach bottoms out, and something cold as ice replaces that fire inside her.

“Aang,” she breathes.


	26. Day Twenty-Six: Sacrifice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Twenty-Six: Sacrifice (or something like it)
> 
> Late update, sorry! I wrote myself into a corner with the end of that last chapter, and this one was kind of like pulling teeth. I hope this is acceptable.
> 
> Edited 1/1/2021

“Aang.” She pulls herself out of Zuko’s hold and darts down the porch steps to where Aang’s standing, his shoulders tight and his mouth pressed into a thin line. “Aang, are you all right? We were so worried.”

The grey in his eyes flashes like steel. “Were you?”

“Yes, we were,” she tells him, drawing him into a firm hug that he makes no move to reciprocate.

“Doesn’t look like it,” he mutters darkly.

“Well, we were. We all were.”

He huffs. Momo jumps from his shoulder to hers and back again, chittering in her ear.

“Aang,” she starts, “did you want to talk about what —”

“— No.” He sighs, deflates, the tension flowing out of him all at once like river water out to the sea. “I just wanted to say… I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” She pulls back, her hands resting on his narrow shoulders. Behind her, the doors to the Jasmine Dragon haul open and slam shut, the glass rattling. She resists the urge to look over her shoulder. “Why?”

“After I left, I went and talked to Roku, and some of the others.” He swallows. “They all said I might have been… wrong. About all of it.”

“Oh, Aang…”

“You were right. I did have expectations, but that didn’t mean that you had to have them, too. I was wrong to try and push you. Besides, if I felt like I was ready to start something with you, then I also had to be ready for you to maybe say no. I can’t have one without the other.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

He shrugs and pastes on a small smile. “I’ll get better at being okay with it, I think.”

She smiles, too, and pulls him into another hug. “I do love you, Aang. You’re one of my best friends, and that’s never going to change. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know. You’re one of my best friends, too.” He snuggles into the crook of her neck like a baby sabre-tooth moose lion, and the sinking pit of worry in her stomach ebbs away until she feels like she can breathe normally again.

“Hey,” Aang says when they pull apart. “Where’d Zuko go?”

“Oh, back inside, I think.” She frowns at Zuko’s upstairs window. The curtain ripples gently.

Aang cocks his head. “What were you doing with him, just now?”

Her cheeks warm. “We… just went and got some lunch.”

He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. She thinks it might be a while before a smile for something like this reaches his eyes again. “Just lunch?”

She shakes her head. “We don’t have to talk about this, Aang.”

“All right, all right.” But he sounds a little relieved, too.

She tugs on his sleeve. “Come on, Iroh probably has some more tea for us to try.”

When they return, everyone seems to have found convenient places to be, and very loud conversations to have. Iroh is fervently debating the merits of hot tea over iced with Toph, while Sokka and Suki sing the praises of the boomerang and the fan together, for no good reason that Katara can discern.

She meets Zuko’s gaze across the room, a tray of teacups delicately balanced in his hands. It’s like looking at him with new eyes, this awareness she has now of his taste, his touch, his feel, and his scent.

All that for an interrupted kiss, and she still feels scalded by him.

And she’d give up everything to feel it again.

Aang glances between them sadly.

“Was it always him?” Aang asks, so quietly, she thinks for a moment that she imagined it.

But she doesn’t think she has an answer that will satisfy him.


	27. Day Twenty-Seven: Tradition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Twenty-Seven: Tradition
> 
> This one was easy until it wasn't, but I still kinda like it. The trouble with writing drabble-length stuff is that I inevitably always start thinking about how every single chapter could be expanded (because even I think the turn in this one is kind of abrupt). This one is no exception.
> 
> Also I made up the traditions, but they're kind of based in fact.
> 
> Edited 1/1/2021

If the Jasmine Dragon were opening in the Fire Nation, tradition would dictate that eight red lanterns be kept lit in the windows for eight days. When they would burn out, the ashes would be collected and kept in a small box to be buried beneath the floorboards by the entrance. It is said to be most unlucky if any of those lanterns burn out prematurely, or for the box of ashes to be misplaced or not replaced should a new business move in.

Iroh still performs this task, keeping the lanterns lit in the back room where the cleaning is done, and the tea is kept. He says it will be luckier for them to burn back there, anyway.

The Earth Kingdom has slightly different traditions, with every patron that comes through on the opening day offering Iroh a stone or gem of some kind. Toph wears a proud grin as she presents Iroh with a chunk of unrefined jade, which takes pride of place on the shelf behind the counter, where Iroh keeps his best teapots.

Katara doesn’t know much about either nation’s traditions, but when there’s a spare moment, she offers Iroh an oyster shell with a smooth, iridescent layer of nacre. It looks small and silly next to the jade and other assorted gems and mineral stones, but Iroh beams at it like it’s a nugget of gold (she thinks he already has one of those somewhere).

“Thank you, Master Katara,” he says warmly. “I shall be reminded of the ocean whenever I look at it.”

Behind him, Sokka lets out a scoff. “You think that’s cool? Wait until you see this!”

She doesn’t stay to find out what _this_ is, but she assumes it has something to do with the collection of vaguely blue pebbles Sokka picked up all throughout their journey. She hears Iroh thank him profusely while Sokka begins to rattle off where and under what circumstance he found each stone.

Katara takes the moment of distraction to slip out to the back room, where Zuko is cleaning a long line of used teacups and saucers. There’s a talk she thinks they might need to have; one they haven’t been alone enough to have these past few days. He glances at her when she comes to a stop beside him, a bit closer than perhaps necessary, and smiles that very small, very Zuko smile.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey. Need any help back here?”

He lets out a huffing sort of laugh. “Oh, Agni, please. There are so many cups. I don’t think this place ever got so busy when we were here before.”

She smiles and rinses them with her bending. “You don’t miss it, then?”

“No, but compared to being Fire Lord, serving tea is easy.”

She snorts. “You’d go crazy here.”

He smirks. “Yeah, probably. Uncle is thriving, though."

"That's probably an understatement."

The gentle quiet between them, filled with the splash of water and the clink of china, remind her of nights at Ember Island. This time, there's an underlying tension punctuating every move they make, that flares between them like sparks of wildfires whenever they touch.

She opens her mouth, to say what, she still hasn't decided, but Zuko beats her to it.

"But," he starts, his brow furrowing, "is it wrong that I’m still a little jealous of him?”

She pauses, sets the cup she’s drying down onto the bench with a sharp clatter. “How so?”

Zuko frowns and stares at the water, where a rapid burst of small bubbles and ribbon0like wisps of smoke begin to appear at the edges. “He gets to stay here, live a simple life that he wants, without a care in the world.”

“Zuko…”

“I’m happy for him, really, I just…”

The rapid bubbles become even more frenzied. The lanterns hanging above their heads flash and glow. “Zuko…”

"I never got a choice," he grits out, like he never heard her. "After all... all of everything we all went through... I still don't get a choice."

"What would you have chosen?" she asks carefully.

“Literally _anything_ else. I was never supposed to do this,” he hisses. His knuckles peek above the water, clothed in smoke, bright and stinging red. “This was never meant to be me. I was only ever fourth in line and was only ever supposed to fall lower down the line of succession. I was never meant to so much as _touch_ the throne. But I don’t get the luxury of skipping out and leaving the country to an Agni-damned teenager with no Agni-damned idea of —”

“Zuko!”

She rips his scalded hands from the boiling water. A teacup shatters at their side. The lanterns above them burst into flames. She pulls a stream of cold water from the tap and wraps her hands around his until they glow a cool soothing blue.

“It should be him, not me,” he whispers. “I get it, I do, he deserves peace as much as anyone. And I don't want to hate him for making the choices that will let him have that. But I… I’m just… it's been a month already and I still don’t know what I’m doing. I have no one back home anymore, and it's just so _hard_ , Katara.”

“Oh, Zuko,” she breathes.

But she can’t think of anything to say to make it better.

When it’s done, when his hands are as smooth and pale as they ever were, she tugs him to her and wraps him in a hug, burying her face in his warm chest, so she can almost see the wild beat of his heart as easily as she feels the trembles wracking his body. It takes him barely a second to respond, with one hand coming to cup the back of her head, while the other goes tight around her waist. He holds her like he’s afraid she’ll leave, and she still doesn’t know what she can say to that.

It feels like hours before they pull apart, but they don’t step back. Nearly the entire length of their bodies touch. She’s too scared to breathe, to disturb this pocket of whatever it is surrounding them.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “For my hands, I mean.”

“You’re welcome,” she replies, just as quiet.

The moment hangs by a single thread between them. When he turns his head and glances at the specks of ash floating in the steaming sink water, it snaps.

He sighs, takes a long step back. “Well, we should probably find some more lanterns to hang, before Uncle finds out.”

“Would they still be lucky?”

“I won’t tell if you don’t.”

She smiles, and he returns it in a heartbeat, if a little more subdued. “Are there any more here?”

He glances around the small back room. “I’ll look high, you look low?”

She nods. “Let’s go.”

She scours the cupboards on the floor while he reaches for the ones above. The talk can wait until later.


	28. Day Twenty-Eight: Blush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Twenty-Eight: Blush
> 
> Apologies for the late update, guys! For some reason, this one just wasn't working for me, but then I had a shower and thought about other stuff, then bam! Idea! Short idea, but still! Tomorrow's will be another long update, so I'll make it up then.
> 
> (Sorry to burst bubbles but i am absolutely making this stuff up as I go along. there are no rules. there is no plan. the wheels are off baby)
> 
> Edited 1/1/2021

“Ah-hah!” Katara exclaims as she scrambles to her feet, cheeks flushed and her hair plastered to her forehead. “Found them!”

“Oh, good,” Zuko says, letting out a breath. “I was worried we’d have to make them.”

“Make them?” she asks as she pulls a lantern out of a cellophane sleeve. “These came from a shop, didn't they?”

“It’s tradition to make them as a family,” he tells her as he unspools a length of twine. “In the Fire Nation, you use these lanterns to bless anything that’s… new for you. When we moved into the Fire Nation palace when my father was crowned, we did a lantern lighting, but I wasn't very good at making them.”

She stops, fixes him with a dour look. “You, your father, and Azula made lanterns and did a lighting for the palace?”

“We take tradition pretty seriously, in case you hadn’t noticed,” he says, nudging her with his elbow. “Come on. We have to get these up before Uncle comes in and dumps me with another pile of cups.”

She pops the lanterns open like an accordion and inspects them all the way around. “What are these characters written on them?”

“Old Fire Nation script,” he says, looking over her shoulder. She can feel the warmth of his breath against her ear, and it sends a shiver racing through her. “It’s not used much anymore, though.”

“What are they for?”

“Little affirmations, really. Blessings you’d want on your home or business. It’s luckier if all eight are different.”

She smiles at him. “Can you read it?”

He shrugs. “Some, sure.”

She traces the sharp lines and the gentle curls of the character and hands the lantern over. “What does this one say?”

Zuko threads the lantern onto the new string, tying it so it remains in place. “Abundance.”

“And this one?”

“Joy.”

She flashes the character, he takes the lantern, threads it, ties it, one by one.

“Luck.”

“Riches.”

“Family.”

“Home.”

“Security.”

“And this one?” She passes over the eighth and final lantern.

He takes it, stares at it. A light blush steals over his unscarred cheek. He threads it onto the string with the others, and reaches up to tie it between two bars sitting beneath the rack above the sink. With incredibly deft, delicate flicks of his fingers, he lights the wicks inside.

“Zuko?” she asks.

He swallows, turns to her, their shadows long in the lantern light. His eyes are alight with something burning and heady, tempered with the tenderness she’s used to from him. She can sense his heartbeat galloping in her chest, matching hers beat for beat. They’re so close, and it would be so easy to just reach out and —

“Love,” he rasps. “That one was love.”


	29. Day Twenty-Nine: Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Twenty-Nine: Home
> 
> Apologies for the late update again. In my defense, though, it's a long one (as far as this collection goes, anyway), and I'm pretty sure you'll like it :)
> 
> I've had a bit of a headache all day, so I'm posting now to just kinda be done with it, but I also have this annoying habit of coming back into some chapters and rather ruthlessly editing them. I will probably do that with this chapter later, when I feel a bit better.
> 
> Edited 7/1/2021 (I completely forgot I was doing this...)

The sky is dark, and the moon is high when Iroh finally closes the doors.

He clicks the locks and turns to face them, all limp and lax, panting on the floor. Iroh's face is flushed, and his grin is wide and joyous when he exclaims, “I think that was a success!”

Beside her, stretched with his arms far out at his sides, Zuko smiles fondly. “Yeah, I think it was.”

Iroh bustles through the store, stepping over legs and sprawled bodies, and disappears to the back room, where the lanterns are still going strong. “I don’t know how I’ll manage tomorrow, when you all leave,” he calls out.

“Yeah,” Zuko says, a tiny scowl marring his lips as he stares after the open back room door. “I don’t know, either.”

Katara inches her hand across the narrow divide between them and sets it atop his, squeezing gently. He flips his hand and twines their fingers together, the motion as easy and unhesitant as if he’s done it a thousand times before, only he hasn’t. Her stomach flips, and her heart flutters like hummingbird-moth wings against her rib cage. She steals a glance at Toph, who’s watching them both with a wide, knowing grin.

“You must all be so tired,” Iroh says as he pops out again. “And you, Zuko, have an early trip back to the Fire Nation tomorrow morning.”

She squeezes his hand again.

Zuko swallows. “Uh, yeah, I suppose I do.”

“And the rest of you,” Iroh goes on, “taking off to wherever the wind takes you. What will you be doing next?”

“Home, via Kyoshi, of course,” Sokka says, giving Suki a squeeze. “I’ve missed seal jerky so much.”

“And you, Miss Beifong?”

“Dunno,” Toph says, scratching her ear. “Maybe see my parents, just so they stop sending me letters everywhere I go.”

“I can take you on Appa, if you want to go back to Gaoling,” Aang offers.

Toph nods. “Yeah, thanks.” She turns a barracuda-shark grin on Katara. “What about you, Sugar Queen? Where are you going? Back to the Fire Nation with Sparky?”

“She’s coming home, too,” Sokka cuts in with a firm nod. “I mean, you do plan on coming home, right, Katara?”

This time, it’s Zuko’s hand squeezing hers.

“I… I’m still not sure,” she mutters at the ceiling. “I haven’t decided.”

“Well, no decision has to be permanent,” Iroh says. “And you’re all still so young.” He dims the lights in the main room and lets out a yawn. “Good night, everyone. Don’t stay up too late.”

He mounts the stairs and leaves out of sight. It doesn’t take long before Sokka and Suki turn in, followed by Toph, then Aang, who shoots her a small, still sad smile before saying good night as well.

Leaving her and Zuko in the middle, and gently crackling fireplace warming their linked hands, and an ocean of words between them.

She turns onto her side and props herself up on her elbow. “What about you?” she asks.

“Not tired,” he says. “You?”

“Me, neither." Her heart is still doing that strange, fluttering thing when she asks, "Do you… uh, want to do anything?”

He’s quiet for a long moment before he lets go of her hand and stands, the motion more graceful than anything she thinks she could manage.

“Want to go outside?”

“To that park again?”

He shakes his head and offers his hand to help her up. “No, just around the back.”

She takes it. “All right.”

He leads her out a door in the back room to a huge tree growing behind the Jasmine Dragon. Katara isn’t sure what kind it is — it’s not one she thinks she’s some across before — but the leaves are glossy and larger than her hands, and the scent from the tiny, white flowers is sugar sweet, made stronger in the scant moonlight.

There’s a swing hanging from one of the higher branches, the rope fraying and the seat cracked. She gives it a tentative tug and, when it seems to hold, she sits, kicks herself off the ground, closes her eyes and surrenders to the weightlessness of it.

Like moving through water, and nothing like it at all, too.

“That doesn’t look safe,” Zuko says.

She jostles with the ropes. “It’s holding well enough.”

“If you say so.” He slides down the tree trunk and sits on the grass.

They pass long moments like that, the quiet creak of the straining branch and Zuko’s deep even breaths the only sounds to cut through the dark, starry night.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks.

She sighs. “Where I’m going tomorrow.”

Zuko doesn’t say anything, just pulls tufts of grass from the ground and scatters the blades on the gentle breeze.

She lets out a grim chuckle and shakes her head. “But it’s stupid. You don’t want to listen to me whine about nothing all night.”

“You always listen to me,” he murmurs. “Why wouldn’t I want to listen to you, too?”

She glances down at him. “Really?”

His eyes glow when he looks up at her and says, “Yeah. Really.”

She slips off the swing, splinters catching on the back of her green robes, and sits on the ground beside him.

She tips her head back against the trunk, takes in the stars so different to what she sees at the South Pole. “I’m scared to go back home.”

“Why?”

“Because…” She bites her lip to keep it from quivering. “What if I get back there and nothing’s changed? What if I go back, and it’s just… back to mending clothes now that all the men are back, making meals, cleaning huts, and just doing that for the rest of my life. I think… I don’t think I could take it, Zuko.”

She feels more than she sees him nod. “Do you really think that, after everything, your father would put you in that position?”

“Not on purpose, but it’s been that way for a long time. He won’t be able to change everyone’s minds.”

“Okay,” Zuko tips his head back against the trunk, and she can see the angular profile of his face out the corner of her eye. “So, in an ideal world, what does Master Katara of the Southern Water Tribe want to have happen?”

“That’s the problem. I don’t know. And shouldn’t this be the ideal world now?”

He shakes his head. “Not if you’re afraid to go home, Katara. Something else needs to happen for it to be an ideal world for you, too.”

“Well, you’re the Fire Lord,” she says, only a little jokingly. “Diplomacy is meant to be your thing. What do you think I should do?”

He sucks in a breath. “I can’t make this choice for you.”

“But maybe you can help me see it clearly.”

“You really want to know what I think?” he says, a little shortly. “I think you should go home, Katara. The kind of change you want isn’t going to happen without you. So maybe you should go back and get that done before you even think about doing anything else.”

The inches between them now feel like a mile. “Zuko?”  
  


“What?”

“I would go back to the Fire Nation with you if I thought I —”

“— Katara,” he cuts in, sighing. “It’s fine. You don’t have to explain that part.”

“No, after the past few days, I really think I do.”

He lets out a breath that ends in smoke. “Is this a talk you really want to have now, before we… all leave tomorrow?”

“If not now, then when?”

“Wouldn’t never be better?”

“No, of course it wouldn’t! Why would that be better?”

“Because then no one gets hurt that way!”

“You’ve said that to me before, you know.” She scowls, gently pokes the scar on his stomach. “Someone gets hurt either way.”

“What do you want me to say? That I think I’m fa — that I really want you to come back with me? That I’ll miss you like crazy when you leave?”

“If that’s what you think, then yes, you should absolutely say it!”

“But it does us no good, Katara!”

“Because you’re not letting it!”

“What? Am I wrong? You’re going to go home anyway, aren’t you?”

“Didn’t you hear your uncle before? It doesn’t have to be permanent.”

“Why, though? Why would you even want to come back to the Fire Nation?”

“Why would I want to come back to the Fire Nation?” She cups his face in her hands, runs her thumbs along the curve of his cheekbones. The surprise in his eyes, colouring his cheeks, makes her grin. “Spirits, Zuko, you really are stupid sometimes.”

She surges forward, fire in her veins, and kisses him like she's dreamed of doing since he leapt in front of a bolt of lightning for her, without caring that he might die.


	30. Day Thirty: Without

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Thirty: Without
> 
> Edited 7/1/2021

She barely slept two hours last night, but Katara still wakes before dawn to see Zuko off.

“You didn’t have to come,” he tells her, meeting her halfway on the launch platform, the airship that will take him back to the Fire Nation looming behind him. The bags under his eyes match hers, and that very small, very Zuko smile that holds such new meaning for her is a sun breaking through the early morning darkness. “I know you’re not a morning person.”

“I know. I wanted to,” she says, wrapping her arms around her middle to block out the chilly morning breeze. She’s only a little envious of the full Fire Lord regalia he’s wearing.

He watches her for a moment, his eyes unreadable, before he ducks his head and presses a quick kiss to her lips. When he pulls back, his unscarred cheek is bright red, matching the heat of hers perfectly. Perhaps hours spent talking and kissing beneath a starry sky isn’t enough to make either of them less awkward.

“Was that okay?” he asks quietly.

She takes his hand and squeezes it. “It’s more than okay, Zuko.”

If Iroh thinks there’s anything untoward about their linked hands and their hushed conversation as they approach him, he hides it behind a small, satisfied grin and says nothing.

“Master Katara,” he greets her. “Have you changed your mind on returning home?”

“Not yet,” she says with a smile. “Just wanted to… see Zuko off.”

“How very kind of you," he says with a deep nod. "However, if you don’t mind, Master Katara, I wish to impart some wisdom upon my nephew before he leaves.”

“Oh, of course.” She gives Zuko’s hand a final squeeze and steps off to the side to watch the sun crawl higher and higher into the sky.

Their voices are little more than closely shared, muffled whispers, so it’s not difficult to ignore whatever kind of wisdom Iroh is trying to impart. It’s as they inevitably shift closer and closer still to where she’s standing by the airship’s retractable staircase that more conversation filters through, and what little she hears makes her heart warm.

“Remember, Nephew,” she hears Iroh say roughly. “Though I am here, and you are there, I will be there whenever you need. Please understand that you are never truly without.”

Zuko closes his eyes and rests his chin on his uncle’s shoulder. “Thank you, Uncle.”

“Send as many messenger hawks as you wish. I will answer them all.”

“Yes, Uncle.”

“And Zuko, please remember to take time for yourself. Be happy whenever you can, for however long you can.”

Zuko sighs. “I will, Uncle.”

“Good.” With a final, tight squeeze, Iroh lets him go and steps back, surveys Zuko with a smile so immeasurably full of pride and happiness. He dips into a shallow bow. “I wish you a safe journey, Fire Lord Zuko.”

“Thank you, Uncle. I’ll write when I land.”

“See that you do. Now, I’ll give you both… a _moment_ to say goodbye.” Iroh winks and starts back to the Jasmine Dragon, a hop and a skip lightening his step.

Once Iroh is out of earshot, Zuko snorts. “He’s about as subtle as a komodo rhino.”

“He loves you, though.”

“I know.”

He lets out a long breath and takes her hand, tugging her into a hug. She buries her nose in the soft fabric of the tunic beneath his outer coat, heady with citrus and rosemary. His head rests on top of hers, fitting them together like puzzle pieces.

“I’ll miss you,” she whispers.

“And I’ll miss you, too.”

But there’s still something sad and resigned buried deep in his voice.

She looks up at him, watches the movement of his throat as he swallows. “What can I do to convince you that I'll return one day?”

He shakes his head. “You don’t have to convince me of anything.”

“I know you, Zuko. You’ll stew if you have nothing to hope for.”

His smile is gently teasing. “Oh, and I’m hoping for you, am I?”

She runs a finger along the fine gold stitching at his collar and shrugs. “I meant broadly, Zuko.”

“No, you were right. I do hope you’ll come back to the Fire Nation one day. More than… more than just about anything, I hope you’ll come back.”

“Then, I suppose I could give you something of mine, so you know I’ll come back for it.”

He quirks a brow at her. “Like what?”

“I suppose I could leave you with…” She doesn’t finish the sentence, lets her fingers climb to toy with the charm on her mother’s necklace.

Zuko stops her with his hands on her wrists. “No. I can’t take that, Katara. I won’t.”

“But —”

“You made the offer. That’s more than enough.”

“I will come back one day,” she promises him.

“I know you will.”

She pokes him in the chest. “And you better write to me, too.”

“You, too. And I will. Whenever I can.”

“Well, then…” She steps outside the circle of his arms, tries for nonchalance and almost certainly fails as he mounts the stairs to the airship. Inside, she can hear the crew yelling to one another, beginning launching procedures. “Bye for now, Zuko.”

He leans over the railing and cups her cheeks, kisses her again, long, slow, and deep. When he pulls back, that very small, very Zuko smile is back, and she can’t help but reach up on her tip toes to kiss it again. “Bye for now, Katara.”

He darts up the rest of the way, the stairs closing up behind him. With a great creak and a gust of wind, the airship launches into the sky. Katara watches it, her eyes watering against the golden sunrise, until it’s nothing more than a speck on the horizon.


	31. Day Thirty-One: Legend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Thirty-One: Legend
> 
> Late update again, sorry! I went to Ikea today. It was a bad decision (public holiday here in West Australia...)
> 
> This update is a little different from usual, but it's also the longest chapter by far (and I probably could have kept going), so enjoy :) More notes at the end...
> 
> Edited 7/1/2021 (Honestly there's very little that changed - I remember combing over this one a few times after I initially posted it...)

_Dear Zuko,_

_We’re finally home! I almost didn’t recognise it when we got off the ship. Pakku told us he’d brought some benders from the Northern Water Tribe down to help with the rebuilding, but he didn’t tell us how much had changed. I don’t think he realised just how dire our situation was when I first told him. There are actual ice houses now like what they have in the North, and these beautiful canals running straight through the city. It’s so pretty, but sometimes I think I miss the old times with the igloos and the tents, when things were simpler._

_Sokka says to say hello, as well, and that he’s going to write soon. I think he’s lonely without Suki._

_Dad is doing well, too. None of his friends have given me a sock to darn yet. I consider this progress._

_I miss you,_

_Katara_

**XXX**

_Katara,_

_I'm sorry I took so long writing back. The second we touched down, I had ministers breathing down my neck for one thing or another, and every advisor had a different opinion on how to handle them. If things don’t quiet down soon… well, ~~maybe Azula wouldn’t do such a bad job~~ maybe Uncle had the right idea ditching it all for a tea shop. _

_I don’t know when I’ll be able to write again. There’s an Earth Kingdom delegation arriving in a few days to discuss new trading terms and routes. They’ll be here for two weeks, and I’m sure it’ll be busy. Aang's meant to put in an appearance sometime, too. I'll tell him you said hello, if you like?  
_

_Tell Sokka that I’ll look forward to his letter, and that I know how it feels. ~~Not the bit about Suki, just the part about feeling lonely.~~_

_I miss you, too,_

_Zuko_

**XXX**

_Zuko,_

_It happened!_

_It wasn’t a sock, like I was dreading, but an old parka that should have been recycled into boot lining years ago. I told Tarkik he could forget it, but he started going on about how I should ‘know my place’. Pakku tried to help, and so did Sokka, in his own way (Dad was out fishing) but it didn’t really work and I might have gotten a bit… angry._

_It’s okay, though. Pakku and I managed to fix the Grand Hall just fine._

_But it’s a symptom of a much bigger problem. All the women here feel it. When the men were gone fighting, they took over all the traditionally ‘manly’ chores and got by just fine. Now they’re having ripped coats and musty old loincloths shoved in their hands and being told to remember their place, as though their place hasn’t changed a lot in the past few years. There’s so much tension here. ~~I kind of really want it to snap. I kind of really want to make it snap.  
~~_

_Maybe I should write to Suki, too. I bet she’d have a few ideas on what to do…_

_Oh, Zuko. I’m sorry you’re so busy all the time. We don’t have to write until it calms down more for you, if you want? Or I can just write to you and you don’t have to reply._

_I hope you’re okay, Zuko. I still miss you,_

_Katara_

**XXX**

_Katara,_

_Sorry I’m late in replying again. ~~Maybe this should just be a blanket apology, because I’ll probably always be late in replying to you.~~ But please don’t stop writing. You have no idea how often I reread your letters when I have time to spare. ~~It’s almost like you’re here with me~~. In between imposing new tariffs on the Earth Kingdom imports and domestic taxes on the rice farmers, your letters are the only things that keep me sane. Please don’t stop. I’ll always write back when I can._

_I’m still grinning at the idea of you destroying a hall. I don’t really know what sort of advice I could give you for the situation in your tribe, but you should definitely talk to your dad. You know he’ll listen to you. Besides, you destroying large blocks of ice does seem to be a catalyst for big things. Maybe they’ll write a legend about you one day?_

_Also, could you please send me some more seal jerky? Sokka enclosed a parcel of some with his last letter, and I’m a little bit addicted._

_Miss you,_

_Zuko_

**XXX**

_Zuko,_

_I hope Hawky didn’t make a snack of your jerky. I told Sokka you wanted more, and he was so ridiculously happy. I’m kind of surprised that you like it. It’s a very acquired taste._

_You’ll be glad to know I spoke to my dad, and he does agree with me, but I don’t know how much good it’s going to do. Everyone here is very set in their ways. I mentioned that Pakku tried to help, but since he’s from the North, his voice doesn’t get heard much here anyway, no matter what Gran Gran tries. I wrote to Suki. She proposes a revolution, but revolutions take a lot of time, and there are a lot of men like Tarkik here._

_And they wouldn’t write any more legends about me than they’d write about you, Fire Lord._

_Still miss you,_

_Katara_

**XXX**

_Katara,_

_Thank you for the jerky. Don’t tell Sokka, but I dip it in chili powder. It’s handy to chew on during the longer summit meetings. Maybe I'm becoming dependent.  
_

_I visited Azula yesterday. The doctors finally let me. She’s… not doing great. She’s still hallucinating, and when I was there, she was talking a lot about our mother… talking a lot to our mother. I wasn’t sure what to say to that. I know it’s awful, but I didn’t stay long after that. I wouldn’t have known what to do, anyway._

_You’re right, revolutions are long, and messy, but what was that thing you always said? That you don’t ever turn your back on someone who needs you? A revolution would be in good hands with you, if it’s something you want to see through. I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed, but people pay attention to you. You’re kind of hard to ignore._

_There are already a few legends in the Fire Nation about the two of us. I’ll tell you them one day._

_Good luck, Katara,_

_Zuko_

**XXX**

_Zuko,_

_You won’t believe what happened!_

_There’s an older lady here named Arnaaluk. Her husband left with the others not long after the first Fire Nation raids and left her alone with their three little ones, one of them newborn. She was kind of the unofficial leader for a while. She led hunts with her baby strapped to her front, and sometimes she would help other families build huts if they couldn’t do it themselves. A lot of people still go to her now if they need help with something. Anyway, her husband, Panuk, came back with the others and started in with the usual attitude, and you know what she said to him?_

_Well, it was a lot more colourful than what I’m going to write, but the gist of it was, Get Lost._

_It’s not much, but it’s definitely a start! The other ladies around here really listen to Arnaaluk and look to her example. As much as I want to get in everyone’s business, people around here aren’t going to listen to a fifteen-year-old. They still think I'm too idealistic and naive. I don’t mind, not really, but I’m still going to have a talk with Arnaaluk, see what sort of advice she has._

_I’m sorry about Azula, too. And it’s not awful that you weren’t able to stay long; it would have surprised me, too, if I were in your position. Try again some other time. Maybe if Azula had other, real people to talk to, it might help._

_I’d love to hear those legends one day. Soon, maybe, if what’s happening here keeps going._

_Stay well, Zuko,_

_Katara_

**XXX**

_Katara,_

_It’s been almost four moons since I received your last letter. I would apologise again for the lateness of my reply, but I worry that I’m just repeating myself without learning anything._

_I didn’t want to tell you this ~~at all~~ in a letter, but Toph insists that I should. I don’t know how quickly you receive news down there, but someone tried to kill me, and I spent some time in hospital with severe poisoning. I’m fine now, I promise. My uncle was acting as regent for a short while as I was recovering, and he brought Toph in to conduct interviews with the palace staff. They uncovered a plot in the royal guard to overthrow me and put my father back on the throne. Needless to say, they’re in prison now, and a new royal guard is being trained. In the meantime, Suki and some of the other Kyoshi warriors are acting as my guards. Please apologise to Sokka for my monopolising his girlfriend._

_And accept my apologies, too, for being unable to follow the final directions in your last letter._

_I hope things have improved further since you last wrote. It sounds as though things are beginning to change, and a beginning is better than nothing._

_I miss you so much, Katara._

_~~Love,~~ _

_Zuko_

**XXX**

_Zuko!_

_I’ve tried to write this letter three times now. Your uncle wrote to me, too. I got his letter a little after I received yours._

_You almost died, Zuko. Your heart had to be restarted. This isn’t something that could be written off as one bitter employee. This was your entire royal guard, a group of people sworn to protect the Fire Lord at all cost. How did something like that slip through the cracks? How did we not see something like this coming?_

_I have no idea what I’d do without you, Zuko. It would break my heart. Promise me you’ll be careful._

_I’m so, so, so happy you’re okay. Please write again soon._

_~~I love you,~~ _

_I miss you,_

_Katara_

**XXX**

_Katara,_

_I promise you, I’m fine. The new guards have been interviewed multiple times, and they have Toph’s, Uncle’s, and Suki’s seal of approval to start as soon as possible. (Suki tells me she’s going straight from here to you guys. Apparently, things have been happening down there while I was ill)._

_I went and saw Azula again when I was released from hospital. It was the strangest thing. She was in tears, and she hugged me, said she was glad I was okay. She hasn’t hugged me since we were small. I mean, she still called me a dummy and kicked me out a short while after, but it was almost nice. I haven’t been able to stop thinking of it. I hope it’s progress. The doctors seem cautiously optimistic.  
_

_I’m back to my duties now. ~~Is it bad that I almost miss the hospital?~~ Even with Uncle as regent, things built up. I’m going to be busy again, so I can't promise when I'll be able to write. There was a severe flood in one of the northernmost provinces which I’ll be taking the airship out to later today. I’ve been told to expect… not good things. I'm absolutely terrified.  
_

_Agni, I ~~love~~ miss you, Katara,_

_Zuko,_

**XXX**

_Zuko,_

_If I’ve timed this right, by the time you receive this, I’ll have hitched a ride on one of the trading ships and I’ll be on my way to the Fire Nation. Hopefully, you’ll read this letter before I get there. I don’t want to be the reason your heart needs restarting again._

_There’s a lot of things I think we left unsaid last time we spoke in person. At least, there were a lot of other things I desperately wanted to say. The incident with your royal guard makes me wonder if maybe we shouldn’t wait to tell each other the things we want. Maybe we should just go for it. Maybe it’s not worth waiting. I’ll have a whole month now to tell you all the things I want._

_Things have improved down here somewhat, but there’s still a way to go. The main thing I’m trying to remember now is that I’m not afraid to go home now, and the world is a little more ideal than it was when I saw you last._

_I know you’ll be busy. I won't be a distraction to you. I’d like to go to that flooded area you mentioned. Maybe I could be some help there._

_I’ll see you soon. I’ve missed you so much, Zuko._

_Love,_

_Katara_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE MADE IT!!!!! Holy crap I haven't written every day like this in... I honestly don't know when...
> 
> Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, kudosed, and lurked on this fic. You've made my first Zutara fic a wonderful experience, and the first of my fics on any platform to crack 100 reviews, which is so awesome to me! If the cards fall favourably, I'll be continuing this fic for Zutara Week 2020 (with actual chapters, not so much drabbles).
> 
> Thanks again, guys! If you ever want to chat, I'm ally147writes on Tumblr :)


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